


winter moves into summer fires

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Background Hance, Heat Bond, Heat Sex, Heat bonds, M/M, Mild Angst, Omega Keith, PIV Sex, Scents & Smells, Sheith Big Bang 2017, alpha shiro, male descriptors for keith's genitals, rent an alpha au, trans keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Hunk wipes his hand clean on his apron before asking, “So, what’re your options then?”Keith leans back into his seat. His lips twist together into a grimace. His appetite vanishes in the blink of an eye. “There’s only one option left. I’m going to have to go through my heat.”The memory of his first, lonely heat makes Keith sigh and bury his face between his hands.“But I can’t go through it alone again.”Hesitantly, Hunk asks, “Won’t you need a partner for that?”“Yeah.”--Keith goes to an agency to help him find an alpha he can spend his heat with and all the choices seem wrong. Until a certain gray-eyed alpha walks into the room...





	winter moves into summer fires

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a challenge in many ways. But after quitting twice, tons of complaining, and twice as much whining, it's done at least. I'm _so_ damn sorry I'm so late posting this but. Well. My self confidence tanked massively during the edits. But like I said, at least it's complete and posted.
> 
> Synne, I hope you like how I tackled this idea of yours ❤
> 
> Thanks to Traverse for beta reading this. Major thanks to @timetokeith, @mixterleach, and Kai for eyeballing this fic and helping me make sure I didn’t overstep in any way. Thanks to all my friends who encouraged me to keep at it. I wouldn't have finished this without your support.
> 
> Above all, a massive, MASSIVE shout out to Robert for organizing this BB ❤

Keith never appreciated the kitchen table Hunk insisted they should get for their apartment before. It’s solid wood. The natural beauty of the pale table adds to the openness of the kitchen. All in all, it feels very comforting to him as he sits in a chair with his nose and forehead smushed against the table surface.

 

Ten out of ten, would recommend to people if they’re looking to hide their face from the world without straining their back.

 

“So,” Hunk breaks the silence as he sets something down on the counter. Probably a muffin tray if the sweet scent wafting through the kitchen is anything to go by. “What’d they say then?”

 

Fingers clench around his phone. Keith resists the urge to throw the device against the wall. He reminds himself he can’t afford getting a replacement, fights back his frustration, and forces his fingers to unclench and relax.

 

Keith exhales before grumbling, “Said they won’t cover my meds anymore. Some policy thing.”

 

“But it’s your _heat suppressants_ ,” Hunk insists, opening the cupboard door. Keith turns his head to watch Hunk pull a large plate out.

 

The concern in Hunk’s voice and expression stokes the fading embers of his anger. Keith bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from giving into frustration again. Instead, he shrugs unhappily.

 

“Doesn’t make a difference. The company who makes it is going out of business or something. I don’t know, I didn’t pay attention to that part. I just know there’s been a screw up and I’m on my own.”

 

Hunk walks over to the table, placing the plate of muffins next to Keith’s hand before sitting down across from him. Keith lets go of his phone and wearily pushes himself upright. He reaches for a muffin, tearing it in two before offering the larger half to Hunk.

 

As he accepts, Hunk asks, “And there’s really no other suppressants you could use?”

 

Tearing a small piece off, Keith gently squishes it between two fingers before popping it into his mouth. It tastes amazing. A perfect pumpkin muffin. A small part of him sighs in gratitude that he’s got a roommate who is a whiz in the kitchen.

 

“There _are_ but they’re not as effective or would give me weird side effects. Just my luck that the only suppressants worked on me are going out of business.”

 

“That sucks, dude.”

 

The deep sympathy in Hunk’s voice have Keith’s shoulders slumping in defeat. He pops another bite into his mouth, chews on it morosely and says nothing.

 

Hunk meanwhile, thoughtfully frowns before asking, “What about the new stuff? I think I read something about a new heat suppressant that’s supposed to be really effective.”

 

Shaking his head, Keith takes another bite and speaks, spraying crumbs everywhere. “It’s got some chemical in it that I’m allergic to.”

 

“Chew, swallow, _then_ talk,” Hunk instruct wearily.

 

As Hunk finally takes a bite out of the muffin he’s been holding, Keith tears into another one. For a short while, pleasant silence falls between them. Outside, a bang startles a dog into a furious round of barking. Keith leans towards the window, watching the shaggy mutt growl as a weary looking waiter tries to shoo the creature away from the trashcan.

 

Hunk wipes his hand clean on his apron before asking, “So, what’re your options then?”

 

Keith leans back into his seat. His lips twist together into a grimace. His appetite vanishes in the blink of an eye. “There’s only one option left. I’m going to have to go through my heat.”

 

Hunk’s dark eyes fill with sympathy. He and Keith have been friends since high school. Hunk was there when Keith had presented as an omega and went through his first heat. He’s seen how utterly ragged the week-long experience had left Keith on a physical, emotional, _and_ mental level.

 

Being locked in a barren room with nothing but a creaky spring bed with stiff sheets smelling faintly of bleach had been torture for 17-year old Keith. He’d cried for a partner’s touch, knowing, despite his inexperience, that was the only thing that could dampen the fire in his belly. Keith had oscillated between two states - giving into pleasure so deeply he’d lost count how many times he’d come and fiercely resisting all his base urges.

 

The memory of his first heat makes Keith sigh and bury his face between his hands.

 

“But I can’t go through it alone again.”

 

The next stretch of silence isn’t nearly as long as the last one but it is twice as awkward as Hunk processes the scope of the problem.

 

Hesitantly, Hunk asks, “Won’t you need a partner for that?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“An alpha?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Any idea where you’re going one to help you out?”

 

Keith looks up at Hunk’s concerned expression and helplessly answers, “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

 

\----

 

“I know _exactly_ what you should do,” Lance yells over the music, whipping his phone out of his phone.

 

Keith tries not to groan into his drink; the manic grin on Lance’s face does not bode well. Pidge however, has zero restraint holding her opinions back. She leans in and yells in Keith’s ear, “I don’t like this.”

 

“You and me both.”

 

“Check _this_ out!” Lance crows, shoving his phone into Keith’s face.

 

Keith nearly goes cross eyed trying to see the screen before Pidge swipes the device. She takes one look at it and groans, “A _matchmaking_ website? Come on, Lance!”

 

That has Keith pulling away as well, immediately disinterested. Lance shakes his head, insisting, “It’s not a matchmaking website! They’re an _agency_.”

 

“Same damn thing,” Keith says dismissively.

 

Lance snatches his phone back, tapping on the screen a few times before shoving it back out at Keith. “No. _Not_ the same damn thing. Look! Here’s a list of services they offer and everything. It’s all above board.”

 

Curiosity almost gets the better of Keith. _Almost_. Eying the screen with vague distrust, Keith asks, “How do you even know about this place?”

 

“My sister used them - that’s how she met her partner.”

 

Keiths raises his glass and is surprised to find it empty. At that exact moment, Hunk taps his shoulder and asks if he wants anything from the bar. Keith holds his glass out, repeating his order before turning to Lance. “Which sister?”

 

“Jane.”

 

Jane is three years older than Lance and one of the most sensible people Keith knows. Because he respects her opinion, and partially due to all the alcohol he’s had, his reluctance disappears. He finds himself changing places with Pidge, sitting next to Lance as they fill out the short application. It’s simple enough; it reminds Keith of the time they’d helped Lance set up his AlphaCupid profile years ago. Name, age, sex, looking for: please specify.

 

“How’s it work after this?” Keith asks, thanking Hunk for the fresh round of drinks before looking at Lance. “Am I going to get mails saying I’ve got a 90% match with a bunch of alphas? Swipe right if you’re interested in meeting?”

 

Lance holds up a finger as he stares down the gray loading circle swirling next to the “Submit” button.  Eventually, a new screen loads. Lance turns it towards here. “It says here that they’ll be calling you soon for your free consultation.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Free.”

 

While Lance laughs at his poor joke, Keith shakes his head and takes the phone. He tries to make sense of the text but it’s all gibberish to him. Confused, he blinks, stares a little harder at the English, and tries to connect the words together but his brain fails him.

 

Frustrated with his inebriated brain, Keith hands the phone over to Hunk and demands, “Please read this.”

 

Hunk lowers his beer, takes the phone, and dutifully recites, “‘Thank you for signing up for our service! We will review your application and contact you within 48 hours to schedule your free consultation. During this meeting we will share the different options available to you and choose one that best suits your needs. We look forward to working with you.’”

 

Looking up, Hunk continues, “It sounds like they’re going to ask for money.”

 

“Of _course_ they’ll ask for money! They’re a business! It’s what they do,” Pidge points out.

 

Lance rolls his eyes, groaning, “Here comes her anti-establishment speech again. You’re such a boring drunk, Pidge.”

 

Before the pair can start bickering, Keith intercedes, “Pay for what?”

 

“For the complete package,” Pidge answers. “You know, the usual! ‘You gotta pay if you want us to roll out the red carpet.’ deal.”

 

“How would that work for match making?”

 

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

 

“Or I could ask Jane?” Lance interjects.

 

Keith shakes his head, finishing his drink off before getting to his feet. “No need. I bet they won’t even call. They probably get thousands of applications a day. I doubt they follow up with every person who fills that form out.”

 

\----

 

“We take each application _very_ seriously,” the lady on the other end of the line serenely tells him. Keith’s grateful for her soothing voice - it’s easier on his throbbing, hangover-nursing brain. “Especially ones that come with a referral.”

 

“A referral?” he croaks out in confusion.

 

“Yes. You’ve mentioned her on your application. Ms. Jane Keating?” There’s a few clicks before the lady continues. “She found her partner through our service. They’ll be celebrating their third year together this fall.”

 

Keith makes a noise he hopes comes across as more agreeable than annoyed because he’s at the point of saying anything if it means the call will wrap up faster. He starts to zone out as the lady talks about how happy and satisfied Jane is, how customer satisfaction is a high priority, how their goal is to create a safe environment for people to interact and decide who they want to spend their heats with.

 

He’s almost dozed off when a word finally penetrates the haze clouding his consciousness. “I’m sorry,” Keith interrupts the lady, “but did you just say, _rent_?”

 

“Yes, we’ll help you select an alpha to rent for the duration of your heat. If you’re worried about the cost, rest assured that it will be covered by your insurance provider thanks to the-”

 

Shaking his head, Keith interrupts again, “I’ll be _renting_ an alpha? I thought you guys were a matchmaking service?”

 

“We are, sir. We’ll be matching your profile and requirements against our database and help you select someone you feel compatible with. This process involves sitting down with a number of different alphas with whom we feel you could potentially be a good match with. Will that be a problem?”

 

“I’m uh... I’m going to have to get back to you on that one.”

 

“Of course. But please remember that the free consultation is only available for the next 10 days.”

 

Keith distractedly agrees, hangs up, and drags his weary body out of bed. He shuffles to the door, grumbling, “I can’t believe this.”

 

\----

 

“You never said it was a place you _rent_ an alpha out from!” Lance complains as he paces the length of their kitchen. Watching him is making Keith feel nauseous.

 

“Is that really how you met Lori? Was the story you told mom and _abuela_ a total lie?”

 

Looking away, Keith focuses on a nice blank spot on the wall in front of him and wills the bile crawling up his gullet to go back down. At the stove, Hunk sympathetically asks, “Feel like throwing up again?”

 

“Don’t say that or else I will,” Keith pleads.

 

Lance presses the heel of his palm against his eye and sighs, “Okay, fine. You’re right about that. But you could have told _me_! I wouldn’t ha- well, _duh_ I’m surprised! You’ve always been able to get whichever person you wanted so the fact that you had to-”

 

The sudden manner in which Lance falls silent draws both Keith and Hunk’s attention. As the eggs sizzle away inside their frying pan, Lance makes a disgusted face before grumbling, “I did _not_ need to hear that.”

 

While Hunk and Keith share a mystified look and a shrug, Lance finishes his call with a sigh, “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I freaked out, but you still should have told me. If you’d have told me, I’d have told Keith, and he wouldn’t have walked in on me and Hunk about to get it on.”

 

Keith presses his lips together and struggles not to snap that _they_ had forgotten to put usual “do not disturb” sign which acted as warning for Keith not to unwittingly walk in on anything. How was it his fault he’d interrupted them when they’d failed to hold up their end of the bargain?

 

Besides, he’d knocked before walking in.  

 

Hunk meanwhile lets out a scandalized, “ _Lance_!”

 

Lance however, rolls his eyes. “He hasn’t even apologized for it.”

 

“I _did_! I said I was sorry right as you yelled at me to get out.”

 

“Anyways,” Lance ignores Keith, much to his chagrin, “sorry for waking you up so early but Keith wanted me to confirm that the whole thing was legit and all.”

 

Keith points at Lance, ready to correct him that _no_ , that _wasn’t_ the primary reason why Lance had grabbed his phone to call his sister. But Hunk beats him to the punch, sliding a plate of fried eggs and toast before him with a soft, “If you start arguing with him, your headache is only going to get worse.”

 

With great reluctance and a huge scowl, Keith lets go of his ire and pulls the plate of food forward. As he splashes some Tabasco over the eggs, Lance slides into the open chair next to him.

 

“So,” Lance begins. “Jane says that they’re all above board and as professional as you can get. She also said that you should go for the premium package. Jane says it’s worth the extra $100 payment because then they bust out the good candidates instead of all the sleazy ones.”

 

Making a time-out gesture, Hunk says, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! You’re saying he should go through with this?”

 

“It’s all legit, so what’s the problem?”

 

“Uh, the part where Keith’s supposed to spend his heat, a super vulnerable time for him, with an unknown alpha? He won’t know the alpha!”

 

“But he’ll have a chance to. Plus, if he goes for the premium package then they extra vet the candidates to make sure they’re okay.”

 

Keith chews carefully on his food, paying close attention towards Hunk and Lance as they debate the pros and cons of using this agency. They each raise good points but neither of them manage to fully convince him.

 

By the time he’s got two bites left, Hunk turns to him and asks, “But what do _you_ want Keith?”

 

He lowers his eyes, pondering Hunk’s question in earnestness. What _does_ he want?

 

\----

 

“I want to know if I can get the uhh premium package?” Keith asks as soon as he sits down.

 

Across the table, the lady pauses for the briefest of moments before smoothly sitting down. The shiny name plate tells Keith her name is Alice. Alice gracefully links her fingers together on top of the table before saying, “Yes you can. But the entire cost of that is not covered by insurance.”

 

Nodding, Keith replies, “I’ve been told yeah. It’s another $100, right?”

 

“$139.99.”

 

Keith tries not to cringe. “Can you run me through that package? What does it involve exactly? What makes it better than your regular service?”

 

“There are a number of additional benefits including an in-depth vetting of anyone you’d like to spend you heat with, more stringent search parameters to find the absolute best matches for you, use of one of our clinic rooms with a remote monitoring security system, and after-heat services.”

 

Alice plucks a brochure off a few piles stacked next to her computer screen before holding it out across the table. Keith leans forward to accept the glossy paper, unfolding it as she lists out some special features he listens to with half an ear. The brochure is a summary of the four packages the service offers and as Keith looks the different options available, he can see why Jane recommended he go for the premium one.

 

“We also allow pairings to bring their own items to their selected room to nest. That includes blankets, clothes, stuff like that. No furniture however. If there’s anything you need, we’ll arrange it for you. For an additional fee, obviously.”

 

It’s a struggle not to repeat the last word as sarcastically as possible, but Keith manages to bite the urge down. Instead he looks at the brochure again, thinks about how the next best option is to ask Hunk to spend a week with Lance while he himself spends a miserable seven days whining in his sweaty sheets.

 

Keith looks up, resigned to his fate. “Is credit card okay?”

 

Alice smiles pleasantly and replies in the affirmative, turning to pull a few sheets of stapled paper out of her desk. “Here is the standard contract. The first page explains all the technicalities in layman’s terms while the remaining four pages are all in legalese.”

 

He carefully reads the first page over, feeling some of his paranoia grow quiet at the thorough safety precautions they’ve got in place. On paper it looks like they prioritize the safety of their clients, be they alpha, omega, or beta. That’s good.

 

Satisfied, Keith asks, “Where do I sign?”

 

Alice gestures for him to put the contract down on the table before pointing at the document, “Name here, initials here. Next page, initials over here and there. And your signature at the end under the consent section with one last initial.”

 

Keith feels a little breathless as he signs and leans back in his chair, letting the company representative check everything over.  No turning back now.

 

\----

 

“Everything seems to be in order,” Alice says, checking something over on her computer before turning to the two men sitting across the table from her. “Keith, I’d like you meet Andrew. He’ll be taking over your case and helping you through the entire process.”

 

Andrew is a short, chubby man with sweaty palms and a bald head. But there’s a friendliness in his watery-blue eyes that sets Keith at ease. “Nice to meet you, Keith. Let’s find you the best possible partner for your heat.”

 

Unsure of what to say, Keith mumbles his agreement before hurriedly standing up along with Andrew. “Thanks for everything Alice,” the Andrew says, tucking his tablet under his arm. “We’ll be in room seven if you need us.”

 

“Keep me updated,” Alice replies with a nod before turning back to her computer.

 

Keith follows the short man out the door and down a few corridors before he’s pushing a door open. He gestures for Keith to step in before following. While Andrew heads for the table set up in the middle of the room, Keith stands by the door and takes the room in.

 

For the lack of a better descriptor, it’s basically a conference room minus a display screen and webcam. There’s a table placed dead center of the room with four chairs pushed in and a frosted glass wall. But what makes this room different is the fact that the room has two doors.

 

Keith takes a seat, glancing at the door behind him and the one across the room before turning to Andrew.

 

“Where’s that go?”

 

“As you know, you’ll be meeting prospective partners today,” Andrew begins as he sits down next to him. “For safety reasons, we have alpha’s and omega’s come in through different routes. Less chance of either party tracking the other down this way.”

 

 _Oh_ , Keith thinks before relaxing in his seat with a nod. It’s nice to know that they _actually_ take security seriously and it wasn’t all marketing. “How many people _am_ I meeting today?”

 

Andrew’s fingers carefully move across the tablet screen, small eyes squinting as he searches. He mumbles, “Where is... ah. Here we are.” Keith leans in as Andrew pushes the tablet towards him. “You’ll be meeting 12 people in today’s session. They are all alpha’s, as you requested, handpicked on the basis of the information you gave us.” Keith nods, remembering the detailed forms and tests he’d gone through after signing the contract. “According to our software, you have an 65 percent or higher compatibility with these individuals.”

 

“Is that good?” Keith can’t help but ask.

 

Andrew’s smile is too big for his face and reassuring. “Our findings have shown that most clients select partners with whom they have a 71 to 90% compatibility with. But I don’t want you to think that these are the _only_ candidates available. These are just the ones _we_ feel are a good match for you. Just because our system says you’re compatible doesn’t mean you actually _will_ be because...”

 

He nods, cutting Andrew’s explanation off with a simple, “People are different in person than they are on paper.”

 

With a pleased nod, Andrew says, “Chemistry cannot be calculated. That’s what these meetings are for. Would you like me to give you the details of the first candidate?”

 

Keith straightens up and pays close attention as Andrew pulls up the first profile.

 

“First, we have...”

 

\----

 

“...to stop?”

 

Keith stops angrily massaging his forehead to shoot Andrew a hard look. He knows it's a sharp look but he’s _cranky_ thanks to all alpha posturing and fake niceties he’s been forced to endure for the last two hours.

 

Thankfully, Andrew takes it without a blink or a flinch, merely repeating his question with the same amount of concern, “Would you like to stop? Maybe take a break?”

 

Throbbing headache doesn’t even _begin_ to cover the ache in his head. It’s like someone is hammering long, thin nails into his tenderized brain, each heartbeat a hammer that pushes the nails a little deeper in. On top of that is the pressure headache that’s building at the base of his skull.

 

Keith shifts his hands back to massage the back of his neck, hoping for relief. With a deep sigh, he shakes his head and answers, “Let’s keep going. How many more people are left?”

 

“Four more.” But rather than pulling the next profile up, Andrew continues to eye him with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a break? I can find you some inhibitors or something that will lessen the pressure on your senses.”

 

Keith appreciates the sentiment, he really does, but he shakes his head sharply. “If I do that, I won’t be able to pick the right partner.” He needs his senses alert instead of medically dulled. Keith hates the nose burn all the distasteful alpha scents have given him but those unappealing scents have at least helped him quickly realize he was a poor match with at least three alpha’s.

 

Conversely, the other five alpha’s had weak scents - ranging from weak to non-existent. He’d had to ask a couple of pointed questions to get a rise out of them to make sure he found them appealing but in the end, none of them were what he was looking for.

 

“Coffee perhaps?”

 

Perking up at the thought of caffeine, Keith nods eagerly. “A latte would be great.”

 

Andrew takes his tablet back, pulling up a new app that looks remarkably like the app Keith uses to order pizza. When Andrew notes his surprised look, he laughs. “Pretty cool right? The app was made in-house. It sends the order directly to the coffee machine.”

 

“Who delivers it then?”

 

“One of the assistants, if they’re free. Otherwise one of the guards.”

 

“While we’re waiting, I’d like to go over something really quickly about the next candidate.” Keith turns his attention towards Andrew immediately. The man hesitates a beat before continuing, “He’s not a typical alpha.”

 

“In what way?” Keith asks immediately.

 

Another pause, longer this time. It seems to Keith that Andrew’s struggling with something. He finally begins, slowly and with great care, “Most omega prefer partners who are in the peak of health. But there are always alpha who are far from that standard. And a lot of people will pass over those alpha’s, claiming they won’t be-”

 

Keith sternly and sharply cuts off Andrew, “As long as the alpha is a good person and compatible with me, I don’t care about antiquated bull like that.”

 

Despite all the progress that’s been made, society hasn’t let go of certain antiquated notions. The biggest one being that alpha’s need to be whole and healthy. Forget being dominant, it’s more important than they be the picture of good health. If there was an alpha with poor health, disabled in any way, or scarred, most beta’s and omega’s would hesitate to consider than as a proper partner. It pisses Keith off to no extent that so much of society still clings to stereotypes like that.

 

With a relieved smile, Andrew says, “Glad to hear that.” as someone knocks on the glass door behind them.

 

A guard steps into the room, balancing a serving tray with two steaming mugs in one hand. He places one mug in front of Keith and the other in front of Andrew, along with a few packets of sugar and a pair of plastic spoons

 

“Thank you,” Keith says to the guard before dumping a packet of sugar into his drink. As he stirs it around, Keith asks “What’s the guy’s name anyways?”

 

\----

 

“Takashi Shirogane,” the man introduces himself, holding his bionic arm out towards Keith with a friendly smile. “Feel free to call me Shiro, everyone does.”

 

It’s instincts, not good manners, which have Keith’s hand snapping up to accept the handshake as soon as it’s offered to him. And it’s a damn good thing his muscle memory takes over because for the first time today, Keith’s interested in an alpha.

 

Shiro’s scent is fresh and clean, wholly appealing as a deep inhale of cool mountain air right after it’s snowed. He’s pretty handsome to boot. He’s got a jawline Keith would happily trace for days using his fingertips, beautiful gray eyes, and a crooked grin that melts the base of his stomach.

 

It takes a lot to reign in the attraction he’s feeling towards this alpha but Keith manages to keep his emotions, and pheromones (hopefully) under check.

 

As he gives Shiro’s hand a quick squeeze, Keith thinks he sees a flash of relief fly by in Shiro’s gray eyes. But it’s gone so fast he almost thinks he imagined it. That is, until Shiro smiles wryly at him, “I’m probably not what you expected. Sorry about that.”

 

That’s certainly true but not in the way that Shiro thinks. “Do you mean your arm and the scar? I don’t care about that.”

 

“Most people do.”

 

“I’m not most people.”

 

Shiro’s smile is cautious but there’s a clear delighted edge to it. It makes Keith want to squirm and grin back, pleased by Shiro’s happiness. Clearing his throat lightly, Keith asks, “So, Shiro. What do you do?”

 

The laugh his question gets is a lot more honest. It lacks the hesitation of the last smile and has Shiro leaning forward. “That’s a dangerous question.”

 

“Why? Will you have to kill me if I know?” Keith teases back.

 

Shiro grins back, “Nothing that interesting, just- I’ve been told by my friends than when I start talking shop, I bore everyone to tears.”

 

What kind of a job could do that? What’s a boring job anyways? Keith thinks about it for a few seconds and comes up with nothing. He needs more clues before hazarding a guess. So he asks, “Is it that dull?”

 

“It depends. I personally think the work we do is pretty exciting but the average person would probably think it’s boring to sit and do calculations of all kinds or try to figure out the logistical issues of building rockets and space exploration devices.”

 

Delight has Keith leaning forward, “Really? You’re in the aerospace industry too?”

 

\----

 

“Yes, it’s been fifteen minutes,” Andrew says. “Almost five minutes over actually”

 

Surprised, they exchange a bewildered look. Neither of them had registered the speed at which time had passed once they’d started talking. Simultaneously, they let out nervous laughs before getting up.

 

“I hope I’ve proven my case about why carbon-composites are the best materials to use.”

 

Shiro laughs, playfully holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll run it by my team. It’s ultimately the project lead’s decision but it’s a great suggestion.” His grin softened into a warm smile as he lowers his hands. “It was nice to meet you. It’s not every day I meet a fellow space geek.”

 

This time, Keith’s the one who holds his hand out for a handshake. “You too.”

 

He can’t stop the shiver that runs down his spine when Shiro grasps Keith’s hand with _both_ of his, human hand coming to rest on top. Keith feels his control waver, letting Shiro know that he’s receptive and _willing_ before hurriedly pulling himself back together. He’s worried it might spark a typical dominant alpha reaction in Shiro, but beyond a sharp intake of breath and a quick blink, Shiro doesn’t react.

 

Instead, he levels a long, lingering look at Keith before softly saying, “I hope we meet again soon.”

 

Keith opens his mouth, ready to say “I hope so.” because it’s smart to keep his options open. But then Shiro’s scent changes. There’s a depth to it that ignites a flame inside of Keith. It burns the air in his lungs, the smoke rising up to dry out his mouth. Ash clings to his tongue at the realization that Shiro’s interested in him as well.

 

Keith’s breath stutters as their hands finally disconnect. The fire in his belly pulses, sending shockwaves of heat that match the rapid pounding of his heart. His eyes remain locked on Shiro as he takes a step back. Another and then he’s walking out of the room.

 

As soon as the door closes, Keith goes limp - like a puppet whose strings were cut - falling back into his chair. He continues to stare at the closed door as Andrew asks with clear amusement, “I’m going to assume you’d like to meet with him again, right?”

 

He nods slowly in agreement before finally finding his tongue. “As soon as possible.”

 

Andrew makes a note on his tablet. “Do you want to meet the remaining candidates as well or...?”

 

\----

 

“Yes,” Shiro laughs, running a self-conscious hand through his white fringe. “It’s natural. Apparently trauma and stress can cause your hair to do this. Lucky for me, it only happened to this patch of hair so I can act like it’s all part of my style.”

 

There’s a self-conscious edge to Shiro’s body language that Keith can’t help but want to soothe away. With faux nonchalance, Keith picks up his coffee mug and says, “It suits you.” before taking a sip of his drink.

 

Shiro laugh is far more bashful this time, cheeks tinted soft pink. The way he twirls his hair around a finger is brimming with shyness and it fills Keith with joy. He hides his smile into his drink, continuing to hide behind it as Shiro picks up his own mug too.

 

They nurse their drinks, at peace with the silence that stretches between them. Keith stretches his legs out underneath the table and twitches guiltily when his boots bump into Shiro’s leg. He pulls his foot back at the same time as Shiro. They both open their mouths to apologize when Andrew sneezes.

 

In his corner of the conference room, the ruddy-faced and utterly distraught Andrew wipes his nose before waving apologetically at the pair. Shiro continues to eye him in concern before asking again, “Are you _sure_ you shouldn’t take something for your allergies?”

 

“It’ll go away on its own, don’t worry about me,” Andrew points between them. “You should focus on each other and make sure you both want to do this together.”

 

That is a good point, Keith’s on a deadline after all. Shiro thankfully takes the lead, expression growing serious as he asks, “What kind of help do you need?”

 

“I want to have a painless heat. On my own, heats can be...” Keith shakes his head, uncertain he knows a word that adequately expresses how agonizing the solitary experience can be.”

 

He goes on to quickly explain that suppressants are no longer an option. Thankfully, Shiro nods in easy acceptance. “Okay. What about specifics though? I mean. Do you just want to meet up on the day you go into your heat or... do you want to try and establish a heat bond?”

 

That’s not something Keith’s thought about if he’s honest. He’d thought whoever he’d pick, they’d only be interested in having heat sex. His hesitation must show because Shiro gently continues, “It’s okay if you need more time to think about this.”

 

With a short exhale, Keith admits, “I didn’t think I’d find an alpha who would _consider_ that options but I’m willing to try.”

 

Shiro pauses a second before nodding. “Okay. And how much time do we have before your heat starts?”

 

He has to pull his phone out for that. Keith checks. He makes a face before answering, “36 days.”

 

Leaning back in his chair, Shiro crosses his arms with a thoughtful frown. “I think that should be enough time. We could meet up once a week or more to scent each other and get comfortable”

 

At the core of him, Keith is delighted by the possibility of meeting up semi-regularly with Shiro. But there’s another voice, lower and sharper than cautions him.

 

 _Don’t get in over your head. You’re renting this guy’s services. He’s being nice because you’re paying him for it. Don’t drool all over him just because he’s the first alpha who’s got a nice scent and a decent attitude_.

 

 _Last time we met you only had fifteen minutes and you let yourself get carried away by the fact that you both do the same work and he has an appealing scent. Make_ sure _that he’s a person worth spending your heat with._

 

_Ask him some tough questions and make him sweat._

 

With a stern nod to himself, Keith pushes his drink aside before saying, “There’re some things I’d like to ask first. And if I’m satisfied, then we’ll talk about getting the ball rolling.”

 

“Ask me anything you like.”

 

Keith hesitates before admitting, “Some my questions might be rude. I’ve been told I can be pretty blunt and tactless.”

 

“It’s alright,” Shiro laughs. “You’re picking someone to go through your heat with. It’s better to be rude than careless. How about I start?”

 

After Keith nods, Shiro says “I’m not comfortable talking about my accident or some of my past relationships. I can give you an overview but not details. Other than that, I’m an open book.”

 

He can respect that. Keith nods, linking his fingers on the table before asking, “Any other warnings?”

 

There’s a clear beat of silence before Shiro exhales. “One more. This isn’t the worst of it,” he says while pointing a bionic finger at his nose scar. “I’ve got some gnarly looking scars on my body. It’s not a pretty sight.”

 

His eyes slip down to where Shiro’s gestured at his body and he wonders what kind of scars are hidden by the plain t-shirt.

 

“I’ve got scars from top surgery too,” Keith shares without thought. “It’s not that big of a deal for me.”

 

He sees confusion come and go in a heartbeat, turning into understanding before Shiro gives him a wry smile. “I don’t think you can really compare surgical scars and burn scars.”

 

Regret fills him immediately. Shiro’s right, it’s a poor comparison to make in the first place. Keith lowers his gaze, “Sorry.”

 

“It’s alright. You were just trying to make me feel better, right?” Keith looks up immediately, surprised but relieved that Shiro understood. At his relieved nod, Shiro’s smile turns warm. “Apology accepted then.”

 

Keith’s fingers trace the mug handle, asking, “What are _your_ expectations from this? What are you looking for?”

 

There’s a self-deprecating tint to Shiro’s smile. “I know how this must sound, but I’m hoping to find my life partner. Both of my best friends met their partners through this service. I’m hoping I’ll get lucky too.”

 

“Really?”

 

\----

 

“Really,” Andrew answers Keith’s incredulous question with a short laugh.

 

“But it’s just two pages! The first contract needed my signature and initials ten times!”

 

“This is a simpler contract. It’s an agreement between you and Shiro, to be partners through your heat without either of you breaking the rules you’ve agreed upon. It’s a standard contract, nothing as fancy as the initial agreement.”

 

It was time to finalize his choice; Keith was going to spend his heat together with Shiro. They’re seated in a small booth - Shiro and Andrew on one side, and Keith on the other.  As soon as they’d sat down, Andrew had congratulated them on the match and pulled the contract out.

 

Andrew had reviewed the highlights of the contract before asking them if there were any special clauses they wanted to add to the document. When the pair had shook their heads, Andrew had pushed the three copies of the document in between the pair before pulling out a pen.

 

His fingers clench around the slim instrument. Keith feels like he should be feeling something more than calm. More sweaty palms and a racing heart instead of a steady hand. Keith signs his name and hands the pen over to Shiro, curious why he feels little to no trepidation after making such a significant decision.

 

“Is that it?” Shiro asks, breaking Keith out of his musings, sliding the now signed contract towards Andrew.

 

“This is the easy part,” Andrew comments dryly, as he pulls two slim folders out of his bag. Shiro and Keith share a confused look before accepting the folders. There’s a small stack of papers clipped inside. “This is our Arrangement document. It’s not legally binding but it’s got a comprehensive list of kinks and preferences that we’d like you both to fill out before discussing your requirements during your heat.”

 

Pink colors Shiro’s cheeks just as Keith raises a mildly impressed eyebrow. He’d thought he’d talk to Shiro about this but this is better. He opens the folder, making a small noise of approval when he sees the table of contents. While skimming through the topics, Keith’s eyes pause on “Aftercare Requirements.”

 

More than ever, Keith’s extremely pleased he’s opted for this service. He starts flipping forward to that section out of curiosity - how detailed will it be - when Shiro asks, voice choked, “Lube preference? You even ask for that?”

 

“Some clients are very particular about what they need.”

 

“If you say so,” Shiro shoots Keith a quick look, amusement turning into alarm. “You don’t, do you?”

 

Keith blinks in confusion. “What?”

 

“Prefer a specific lube?”

 

“Not really. Anyways, we won’t be needing lube during my heat.”

 

Shiro’s cheek shift from soft pink to red. “Right. Hey Andrew, why do we have to fill these out? Didn’t we already cover the major stuff after we signed up for the premium service?”

 

“That wasn’t half as detailed as this is,” Keith answers before Andrew gets the chance. “There’s more options listed here and it’s a lot more specific. It’s going to make sure that we’re really in tune with what each of us wants.”

 

“Makes sense. It’s just a little...” Shiro deliberately and slowly flips through all the pages with a thumb. “ _Intimidating_.”

 

He doesn’t think he’s imagining the actual thread of worry at the base of Shiro’s voice. He’s trying to pass it off as a joke but...Keith presses the back of his hand against Shiro’s to get his attention.

 

When worry-laced gray eyes meet his, Keith softly offers, “How about we do it together?” Hope blooms on Shiro’s face immediately. Keith turns to Andrew and asks, “Can we stay here and finish this today Andrew?”

 

“Fine by me.”

 

Shiro playfully pulls his folder against his chest, “How do I know you’re not going to judge me for my kinks? How can I trust you?”

 

Rolling his eyes at Shiro’s attempts to lighten the mood, Keith retorts with, “Is there any section you want to start with or should we go from the beginning?”

 

The pout his question gets him reminds Keith of a puppy that just got denied play time in favor of obedience training. Although, there’s an edge of discomfort that makes Keith wonders if he ought to push or ignore. In a split second, he decides that no, he needs to ask Shiro.

 

He leans forward and asks softly, “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to do this?”

 

Wide gray eyes meet his in a flash. Shiro frantically shakes his head, stammering a little before finally admitting, “It’s just been awhile since I’ve been in this position. Most people pass on wanting to be with me. So, this is pretty intimidating.”

 

Keith looks at the folder Shiro’s tapping his fingers against. Personally, he doesn’t understand what’s so scary about filling the form out. But that doesn’t mean he won’t respect Shiro’s feelings.

 

“Would you feel more comfortable doing this on your own?”

 

The alpha exhales a breathless, humorless chuckle. “I might chicken out that way.” Keith finds himself arrested thanks to the shy smile Shiro gives him. “I’d rather do this with you here.”

 

Nodding dumbly, Keith wordlessly holds a pen out. Shiro straightens up, rolling his shoulders until something cracks. He nods before placing his folder on the table. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

 

“Page one?”

 

“Is there any other beginning?”

 

\----

 

“Yeah,” Keith stuffs his hands into his jeans and tries not to let his embarrassment get the better of him as Shiro peeks into the shopping bag he’s just gotten. “It’s not a lot. Two t-shirts and a hoodie. I thought they might help you get used to my scent.”

 

He’d done this unprompted in hope that it will help Shiro grow more comfortable. Last night, Keith had thought back to last week, when they’d filled the kinks form out and Shiro’s reactions. As they’d gone through the pages together, the pungent Windex-like smell of discomfort coming off Shiro had waxed and waned as they’d gone through the list. Keith had forced himself not to think too deeply about it, but couldn’t help but make mental notes to be careful about bondage, knife-play, blood-play, and restraints.

 

But like an old scab, Keith couldn’t help but come back to pick at it again and again.  He wanted to do something to help Shiro. Reassure him that he was Keith’s choice as a heat partner and that he would respect all of Shiro’s wishes. The result of that desire was the ‘feel good’ bag Keith had shoved at Shiro as soon as they’d met up.

 

The urge to spill all of this like a tipped over jug is high. Instead, Keith clings to his self-control and crosses his arms, clutching his biceps as Shiro pulls out a wine colored hoodie. His eyes dart between the shirt and Keith before stating, “This isn’t new.”

 

Drat. Keith had been hoping Shiro wouldn’t notice that particular detail.

 

While it’s common for heat partners to exchange scent-laden clothes, exchanging well-worn, well- _loved_ items wasn’t usually done, especially between casual partners. The typical practice, and what Keith should have done, is to buy some cheap new pieces and “break them in” for the partner.

 

Keith pretends he’s not blushing as he mutters, “No, they’re not. So you better treat them right.”

 

They’re not his favorite clothes by any definition but they are a part of Keith’s permanent wardrobe. Each item has been worn a number of times. For the most part however, they’re his comfort clothes. Especially the hoodie. It’s an item that he pulls out in winters on the coldest of nights when he’d like to feel extra cozy.

 

He hopes that the positive experiences have left a permanent imprint into the fabric.

 

Keith feels his breath catch at how carefully Shiro pulls the folded hoodie out.  He’s taken Keith’s words to heart, apparently, if the reverent manner he unfolds the shirt is any sign. Shiro snorts as he reads the faded text.

 

“Big AC/DC fan?”

 

He huffs in amusement. “Not particularly. I got that because it was warm, not because of the band.”

 

“That sounds a lot like you,” Shiro shakes his head with a broad grin.

 

Keith nearly demands what _that’s_ supposed to mean until Shiro casually brings one of the sleeves up to his nose and inhales deeply. Hell, he takes several deep breaths, each more reverent than the last.  

 

He feels light headed when Shiro emerges, exhaling slowly. “It smells really nice.” It’s the satisfaction lodged underneath the rumble in Shiro’s voice that has Keith’s knees turning to jelly. But the pleasure that shoots through him at the praise keeps him vertical. “Like home and happiness.”

 

Oh how Keith wants to ask what home and happiness smells like to Shiro. Does it smell like Shiro does to Keith? Like baked bread and apple pie? Like his favorite winter quilt that he hides in during the coldest winter mornings, content to snuggle and roll around in during the weekends.

 

“I’m glad you like it,” Keith manages to push through his sandpaper throat.

 

Shiro looks up from where he’s putting the hoodie back into the bag. There’s a dark, contemplative edge to his gray eyes that send electricity zinging down Keith’s back. “I’ll bring something for you next time we meet too. Do you have any preferences?”

 

\----

 

“Anything is fine,” Keith says with a careless shrug. “I don’t really care as long as there’s a bed, a bathroom, and a mini-fridge.”

 

For the first time ever, Andrew looks extremely put out. He turns to Shiro, gaze heavy with anticipation and the silence desire to _please_ add something worthwhile to the conversation. But unfortunately for the man, Shiro scratches his buzz cut and shrugs as well.

 

“I can’t think of anything right now. I mean, Keith covered the basics pretty well. A bed to have sex in, a bathroom to wash up in, and a fridge to store food in. We’re not planning to do anything where we’ll need a special room. The only important thing is that we’d like to pick one now and start to make it our own.”

 

“In that case, is this room satisfactory?” Andrew gestures at the walls around them.

 

With his arms still crossed, Keith walks the short distance over to the bathroom and takes a peek inside. Despite himself, Keith is pleasantly surprised by the facilities. He’d expected something a lot more _barren_ than this. White walls, no furniture, save maybe a rickety metal frame bed. But no, their room has a lovely cream and gold wallpaper with a deep green accent, a bare double bed, a pair of armchairs, and even a TV. It’s like an upscale motel room.

 

 _If this is a basic room_ , Keith wonders as Andrew points out that the bathroom’s got a tub in it, _what does a fancier room look like?_

 

He feels a touch brush past the small of his back. As Keith turns, he sees Shiro stepping up next to him. His body is a line of heat against Keith’s side and he wants to give into the gravitational force of the alpha’s body and tuck himself under Shiro’s arm.

 

 _Control yourself_ , Keith chides himself. _But I guess if I’m starting to feel like I need to keep touching Shiro, the heat bond is starting to form_.

 

Oblivious of Keith’s inner turmoil, Shiro checks out the bathroom and lets out a low and awed whistle. “This is fancy,” he praises, eyes checking the tub out before leaning a little into Keith to grab his attention. “Are you a shower guy or a soak in the tub guy?”

 

“Shower. Takes less time in the morning.”

 

Mischief twinkles in Shiro’s eyes as he hums.

 

“Whatever it is you’re planning, do _not_ ,” Keith tells the man firmly.

 

But Shiro pretends not to have heard, instead turning towards Andrew to ask, “There’s sensors in the room, right? To monitor our states during the heat and make sure neither of us breaks any of the rules?”

 

“That’s right. Naturally I can’t tell you where the sensors are hidden but rest assured there’s no audio or video-recording devices within the room. Ah, though-”

 

Andrew gestures them closer, urging the pair to come stand by the bed. They move as one, fingers brushing with every step. Keith holds a stoic expression, trying not to give away that each soft touch sends shivers running up his spine.

 

“There’s a panic button installed here for emergencies.” Andrew kneels on the bed and presses one of the rectangles etched into the wooden headboard. He leans back to give them a clear look at the button “It’s in the middle of the design. All you have to do is press down on it and someone from security will be with you in under a minute.”

 

“Good to know,” Shiro nods. His hands are on Keith’s shoulders, sending pleasant waves down the omega’s back. The lingering contact make him wonder if Shiro’s starting to feel the heat bond as well.

 

He nods in silent agreement, unconsciously leaning back into Shiro’s warmth and comforting scent until Andrew moves around to the other side of the bed saying, “There’s something here that should interest you Keith. If you could come over on this side?”

 

The realization that he’s been crowding Shiro’s space for a while slams into him. Embarrassed, Keith moves to put some space between them but Shiro’s grip tightens _just_ so to halt Keith’s movements.

 

Keith turns around in surprise, but a blushing Shiro is already pulling his hands back with a soft, “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was doing that.”

 

Keith shakes his head, an excuse ready on the tip of his tongue, but Andrew’s a step ahead of them. He places hands on his hips with a wheezy laugh. “The heat bond’s starting to kick in eh? That’s good! It’s always good when two people are compatible on a biochemical level but that shows that there’s room for a bond to be created on a deeper, emotional level as well. That’s _very_ good.”

 

Their eyes meet and part in a blink, color filling their cheeks.

 

While Shiro scratches at his nose scar and avoids looking at him, Keith steps forward to see what Andrew wants him to see. There’s a compartment on either side of the bed, Andrew explains, where Keith and Shiro can stash a bottle of water or some snacks.

 

“For when you can’t get off the bed. For whatever reason.”

 

“For whatever reason,” Keith echoes dryly.

 

Shiro coughs, partially in embarrassment if his blush is anything to go by, but mostly to get their attention.

 

\----

 

“I don’t really have a lot of clothes, so I hope you don’t mind that it’s just a t-shirt and some stuff for the bed,” Shiro apologizes as he hands the large bag over to Keith.

 

Keith shakes his head with a reassuring smile, peeking inside the bag. “It’s fine.”

 

They’re seated side by side on the bed in their heat room. There’s 19 days left until his heat, meaning it's high time he starts preparing the space they’ll be spending their time together in. The sterility of the provided room irritates both their senses. Neither of them will be satisfied until they’ve made this temporary space their own.

 

Keith’s brought some stuff from home; a set of bed sheets, a couple of cushions, and a threadbare quilt. It’s not a lot, but he figures it’s a good start. The bed is made, the cushions fluffed up and his quilt messily folded at the end they’re sitting on.

 

The feeling that they’re making progress rises as he peeks into the bag Shiro’s handed over. He pulls the shirt out and barks out a laugh at the design printed on the front, “I’m not even surprised.”

 

“Why? What’s so funny?” Shiro asks, frowning between the faded NASA logo on his t-shirt and Keith, who shakes his head, amused.

 

“ _Of course_ you’ve got a NASA shirt.”

 

Keith doesn’t question where all the fondness in his voice comes from. He gives into it, letting it wash over him like hot water over sore muscles. Instinct guides him to take a discreet sniff of Shiro’s scent before tucking the shirt back in. He’ll go home and uh... yeah.

 

Hoping his thoughts aren’t betraying him, Keith pulls the next item out of the bag - a simple pale blue duvet. Without a second thought, Keith messily rolls it up with his quilt, encouraging their scents to mingle before placing the pile behind him.

 

“I wanted to run an idea past you.” Keith immediately turns his attention to Shiro, palm flat against the bed. Shiro licks his lips, pauses a beat before hesitantly saying, “I was thinking we should kiss.”

 

Keith stares, caught off guard by the suggestion. It’s an unexpected suggestion but the simple request slides something into place inside of him. At some level, Keith hadn’t _fully_ processed what he’d agreed too. But now? In this moment, it _really_ hits him.

 

He doesn’t realize his short pause comes across as reluctance until Shiro starts nervously explaining himself. “I thought it might be a good idea to get used to each other? Touching each other and just learning what we like in that way? We don’t have to go all the way by then if that’s what you want, of course, but I just thought.  You know. The heat might be more comfortable for both of us if we-”

 

“Shiro,” Keith interrupts, dropping his hand on Shiro’s clenched fist resting on his thigh. The alpha’s teeth close with an audible snap. It’s hilarious and endearing, causing Keith’s lips to quirk up. “I think that’s a great idea.”

 

Hopeful gray eyes widen in surprise. “Yeah?”

 

Keith nods as Shiro turns towards him. “We should be comfortable with each other.”

 

“Exactly! So that it’s not awkward.”

 

Shiro turns his hand, gears whirring as he links their fingers together. The cool touch and budding anticipating sends a shiver down Keith’s spine. He licks his lips and swallows, realizing how dry his mouth is.

 

“We don’t want our first time to be awkward.”

 

He’s shifting forward too, leaning in to meet Shiro halfway. Through half-lidded eyes, Keith catches the way Shiro’s expression relaxes just as his eyes close. Keith’s never been more keenly aware of his heartbeat than he is in the few seconds before their lips connect.

 

The shyness with which Shiro applies pressure makes Keith suck in a quick breath, flooding his senses with the alpha’s scent. Keith exhales slowly, loathe to break their moment of pure calm. Everything is good here, sitting on this bed, holding Shiro’s hand, turning one soft kiss into another, and another, and another.

 

Each kiss is soft but growing in firmness. Shiro’s warm hand cups his face. His thumb brushes the corner of Keith’s mouth as it sweeps across the curve of Keith’s warm cheek. Shiro doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move things along. Keith appreciates that they’re on the same page of just...enjoying this.

 

Keith’s hand curls into Shiro’s t-shirt collar, clutching at the fabric even after they reluctantly pull apart. There’s a dreamy quality in Shiro’s gray eyes that makes Keith’s breath hitch. He doesn’t think he’s ever been with anyone who’s made “dumbstruck” look so attractive.

 

He waits for some semblance of rational thought to poke its way through the heady fog that’s settled over them but there’s nothing, only the intensifying weight of _them_ as their scents mingle. Keith closes his eyes, giddily savoring the fact that he was right; their scents do mesh well together. He’s hard pressed to describe it; he just knows _they_ smell amazing.

 

It’s home, hearth, happiness. It’s comfort, contentment, cheer. It’s the satisfaction flooding you after a delicious meal. It’s waking up on a lazy Sunday, perfectly warm under the sheets and content in the knowledge that you’ve got no chores lined up.

 

Shiro’s hands slide back, past his cheeks, past his ears, to cradle the back of Keith’s skull. Keith finds himself leaning forward for another kiss, just _lingering_. He whimpers, freeing his hand to wrap it around Shiro’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to be closer. Keith finds himself crawling into Shiro’s lap, unable to bear the distance between them.

 

Relief washes over him when Shiro’s hands land on his hips, steadying him with a squeeze before sliding up his back. It feels _good_ to feel engulfed by Shiro’s size. His shoulders are wider than Keith’s and his arms... If Keith was a poetic guy, he’s sure he’d write odes and stuff to Shiro’s biceps. But he makes do by feeling them up. Keith’s hands move to squeeze Shiro’s biceps, practically moaning at how _firm_ the muscles are.

 

 _I bet he’s strong enough to hold me up and fuck me like that_.

 

That particular image sends a bolt of lust zinging through him. He leans in harder, pushing, eager to taste Shiro’s tongue against his own. A muffled laugh brushes over his lips as Shiro’s back hits the bed, pulling a similar sound from Keith’s chest.

 

His stomach clenches when Shiro’s hands purposefully slide down his back. Keith knows what’s going to happen next and he can’t _wait_. If his hands weren’t busy tracing the exact shape of Shiro’s pecs, he’d take his shirt off by himself. But more importantly, he needs to memorize the feel of Shiro’s body beneath his palms.

 

But then both hands unceremoniously dip under the cotton, and skate right past his ribs. A high pitched squeak jolts past his lips.

 

“Ticklish,” he warns as Shiro pulls away in concern. Which is sweet and considerate of him, but it’s also not what Keith wants.

 

Keith manages to steal a kiss before Shiro pulls away, amused. “ _What_ was that noise?”

 

“ _Nothing_ if you want to keep going.”

 

There’s a cheeky glint in Shiro’s eyes that makes Keith dig his knees into the alpha’s side in warning. But he never gets to know what Shiro’s plotting because, from a speaker hidden somewhere near the bed, Andrew awkwardly clears his throat.

 

“I know I told you to take your time, guys. But _this_ isn’t what I meant either. Unsupervised visits aren’t allowed, remember?”

 

“Oops,” Keith deadpans, wondering how Andrew knew.

 

Shiro groans, and lets his head drop back against the mattress, “The sensors.”

 

 _Oh_.

 

“That would be right. It’s not a bad thing that you boys are getting along but rules are rules. You have to tell us if you're planning to do more than meet up here.”

 

Keith gets it, but mostly he wishes Andrew had better timing.

 

\----

 

“Sorry,” Andrew apologizes before swiping his card through the reader again. The device beeps, blinking green as the door opens into a long hallway. It hits Keith again how much like a hotel this space looks like. They’re in the same office building, just a couple of floors up, but the interiors have changed completely. The corporate office looks have changed to a hotel hallway, all the way down to wall-to-wall carpeting and plaques on wall.

 

“Shiro’s already in your room.  He got here a bit early.”

 

Keith nods. It’s two weeks to his heat and they’ve decided to meet up every other day at the clinic. Sometimes their visits are for a brief fifteen minutes, and other days they linger in “their” room. Today, however, Keith asked Shiro leave his afternoon free.

 

“I think it’s great you guys are meeting up like this.”

 

“Oh?” Keith asks absently.  They’ve almost reached their assigned room. He wonders if he’s imagining the faint whiff of Shiro’s scent that teases his nostrils.

 

Andrew nods. “Call me old fashioned, but I think that it’s important for a couple to connect before their heat. See if there’s a connection there. Here we are.”

 

As Andrew opens door 707, Keith tries to bite his smile down. Funny. He wouldn’t have pegged Andrew as a romantic. “Standard rules apply,” the man says. “If there’s an emergency, hit the panic button. If you need anything, use the phone and dial 2. And when you’re done, dial 1 on the phone and the door will open.”

 

Keith nods half-heartedly, more interested in the occupant just beyond the open door. Shiro’s relaxing on the bed, legs stretched before him with his ankles crossed, phone in hand.

 

For some inexplicable reason, relief floods Keith when he sees happiness spread across Shiro’s face at the sight of them. “Hi Andrew. Keith.”

 

He steps through the door, feeling the weight of the day sliding off him as he takes in the sight before him. Something must show on his face because Keith sees the anticipation on Shiro’s face turn into concern.  

 

“Is something w-”

 

“Stay there,” Keith orders, holding a hand up as Shiro shifts. “Please.”

 

Obediently, Shiro freezes, watching as Keith shoves his shoes off and crawls into his lap.  A pair of arms wrap around Keith’s shoulders as Shiro slumps backwards. Keith flops down on top of Shiro with a groan, burying his nose in Shiro’s shirt collar before taking a deep whiff of the alpha’s calming scent.

 

Shiro’s hands stroke up and down the small his back, “Bad day at work?”

 

“Reminded my boss I was going to need some days off for my heat.”

 

His grumble almost gets lost in the softness of Shiro’s t-shirt. Could he just stay here in Shiro’s arms until the end of the month? Would that be possible?

 

There’s a small pause before Shiro asks, “Did he give you a hard time about it?”

 

“Kind of,” Keith exhales, bitterly recalling the way his boss had reacted.

 

Another pause. Shiro’s voice is hard when he asks, “Because you’re an omega?”

 

Oh. Did it come across like that? Keith shakes his head, pushing himself up on his elbows so that he can look at Shiro. There’s restrained anger pouring off the alpha. Keith immediately dips his head low to kiss the stern look away, feeling charmed by how Shiro’s feeling protective about him.

 

“No,” Keith explains softly. “I’m in charge of a two big projects and my heat’s coming up right in the middle of some big deadlines. I’d told him about it as soon as I found out. I kept waiting for him to assign those projects to someone else but he never did.”

 

The explanation visibly deflates Shiro’s gathering temper. He blinks and then frowns thoughtfully. “He can’t assign it to someone else?”

 

“Not really. There’s a couple of other people who’re qualified, but they’re really busy with their own stuff. My boss is going to have to manage them himself. It’s just an inconvenience and my boss is being an ass about it.”

 

Shiro’s brows are still furrowed. Keith thinks they’re nice brows - They’ve got character.

 

“What kind of an ass?”

 

With a free hand, he traces the shape of Shiro’s eyebrows. “Complaining that he’d have to stay late, my timing, ‘such an inconvenience,’ blah blah blah…Petty stuff. It’s not worth worrying about.”

 

“It’s worrying you.”

 

He stops rubbing at the furrows on Shiro’s face to sigh. “It pissed me off more than anything. If it were up to me, my heat wouldn’t be an issue, and I wouldn’t _be_ here in the first place.  So him trying to make me feel guilty is just...”

 

Cool fingers sweep Keith’s hair from his face. They gently tuck some strands behind Keith’s hot ear before coming to rest at the nape of the omega’s neck. Words disappear from his mouth when Shiro’s gentle gaze catches his own.

 

“I’m sorry you had a crappy day at work. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better.”

 

Keith’s grin is immediate and infectious. “I’ve got a couple of ideas.”

 

“Tell me,” Shiro whispers against his lips before kissing him sweetly.

 

Humming, Keith closes his eyes and savors the contact. He tries not to think about how long it's been since he’s had the chance to enjoy this kind of lazy intimacy. He figures he may as well indulge in it while it lasts.

 

“You might not like it.”

 

HIs words stir Shiro to movement, rolling them until Keith is pinned. Keith runs his hands up Shiro’s sides and around his back.  Sometimes he can’t believe how _fit_ Shiro is.

 

“Maybe,” the alpha suggests in a husky voice, “if you tell the bad idea in a good way, it won’t sound so bad.”

 

Keith’s snort of laughter makes his body shake. “A bad idea in a good way? Okay. How about...”

 

\----

 

“How about this,” Keith says softly, fingers carefully tugging Shiro’s shirt back down. He swallows his guilt for pushing Shiro’s boundaries, for letting the heat of the moment take over. The smell of Shiro’s distress is rank, like rotting eggs. Keith’s voice is rough as he talks past the lump in his throat. “You don’t have to take your shirt off _at all_.”

 

The only way Keith knows his words have penetrated whatever headspace Shiro’s vanished into is the fact that he slowly blinks and focuses on Keith. Shifting back, Keith sits on the alpha’s thighs before helping him sit up too. Keith holds Shiro’s clammy hand against his chest, willing some of his own warmth to transfer into the alpha.

 

“You don’t have to show me anything, or _share_ anything with me that you don’t want too.”

 

A series of blinks precede a confused frown. Keith waits for Shiro to collect his thoughts. It takes him half a minute but Shiro finally asks, in a rough whisper, “I don’t have to take my shirt off?”

 

Keith shakes his head, “Nope.”

 

“Not even when...?”

 

“It’s not a requirement for us having sex.”

 

His severity makes Shiro crack a weak smile. With a shaky exhale, Shiro takes his hand back before pulling Keith in a full body hug.

 

It feels a little weird to be shirtless and hugging a fully clothed Shiro. Keith feels _weird_ in general these days. All of his senses seem to be working overtime - scents are too overpowering, tastes are too strong. And now his skin feels like... like...

 

Keith tries not to move in Shiro’s embrace - the last thing he needs is to pop a boner just because Shiro’s shirt feels _great_ against his chest. Especially when Shiro’s stepping back from the edge of his panic attack.

 

 _Behave_ , he tells his damn hormones when Shiro’s sigh skates past his left ear, sending a tremor through his body.

 

“You’re something else. You know that?”

 

_Fuck. Why is he still whispering?_

 

Keith has to bite his bottom lip to keep from whimpering. His dick’s well on its way to hardening now because of Shiro’s awed tone. But the sheer amount of wetness that’s slicking up his folds is going to be a problem _really_ soon. _Fuck_. Maybe Shiro can already smell his arousal?

 

It’s shame that keeps his gaze down. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes when he feels an open mouthed kiss press against his jugular. “Shiro,” Keith moans helplessly. Metal fingers run down his spine, sending a fresh wave of desire through him. Shiro’s learned _the exact_ amount of pressure he needs to apply to leave Keith trembling. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?”

 

The tightness in his throat makes it almost impossible to swallow. Keith feels he could drink all the water in the world and it still wouldn’t help. His hands come to rest on Shiro’s arms, squeezing them just barely enough to make Shiro pause from where he’s pressing soft kisses on Keith’s shoulder.

 

“For trying to take your shirt without asking first. And uhh...” How does he put this delicately? Is it even possible to apologize for popping a boner from a hug? Fuck. If there’s a way to do it, Keith can’t think of it in the moment. His brain cells have disappeared so all he can do is grind his crotch against Shiro’s thigh as an explanation.

 

 _I’m so wet. I wonder if I’ve soaked through my pants. Can Shiro feel how slick I am_?

 

Shiro makes an understanding noise. Keith’s ready to apologize _properly_ , even if it means saying ‘I’m sorry for getting horny when you were trying to calm down.”

 

But then Shiro’s body starts to shake. It makes Keith pause. Part of his brain screeching in panic that he’s made Shiro cry - at least until he hears a tiny snort.

 

“Are you laughing at me?” Keith asks incredulously.

 

With another, louder, snort of laughter, Shiro lets himself be pushed back by Keith. He’s grinning helplessly at the omega, struggling to form a sentence through his chuckles, “You, You’re trying to apologize for getting slick. When the entire point of this is-” Shiro shakes his head and starts laughing again.

 

“Sorry,” Shiro finally breathes out, eyes wet but bright. His shoulders relax, and there’s color in his face.  He looks as calm and cool as he had when Keith walked in.

 

The smile directed Keith’s way cuts his guilt down at the knees. He waits a beat, letting the silence settle before saying, “I really am sorry.”

 

Forgiveness came in the form of a sweet kiss dropped on the arch of Keith’s left cheek. He bashfully ducks his head, hiding the grin the soft touch created. Keith lets his body tip forward into Shiro’s chest and stays there. He breathes in Shiro’s scent to kill the last remaining bit of ill feeling that’s lingering at the back of his throat.

 

The sickly sweet smell of Shiro’s unhappiness is fading Slowly but surely, until all that remains is clean joy. Keith closes his eyes eventually, nose buried in the collar of Shiro’s shirt.

 

He frowns when he realizes he’s still _really_ horny. Keith bites down on a curse, shifting his weight back. Maybe a quick cold shower (coupled with rubbing his dick) will get this horniness out of his system.

 

“What is it?” Shiro asks when Keith shifts.

 

“Need to use the bathroom.”

 

Shiro’s confusion turns to understanding when he inhales deeply. His darkened gaze dips to Keith’s crotch. Keith can feel himself dripping, soaking his already sopping underwear. The urge to grab a pillow and hide behind it is _high_. Keith tries to squirm out of Shiro’s grip, but his arms tighten, pinning him in place.

 

Confused, Keith opens his mouth to ask what’s going on when he feels one of Shiro’s hands slide down to cup Keith’s ass with a great deal of deliberateness.

 

Breathless, Keith asks, “Shiro?”

 

“Let me take care of that for you.”

 

His breath stutters and his thoughts reel. He gapes at Shiro, shaking his head a little but whatever defense he’d started to build? Comes crashing down like a house of cards when Shiro’s grip on his ass _tightens_. A tight, helpless little noise catches in his throat as that same grip pulls Keith’s forward by his hips.

 

All that’s left in his mouth is a soft, “You don’t have to.”

 

Keith doesn’t sound convincing - he knows that. He stinks of desire and anticipation at this point. But he still wants Shiro to know that he’s got the option to opt out. That regardless of their situation, he always has the power to say no.

 

“What kind of alpha would I be if I didn’t take care of my omega?”

 

 _Fuck_. Keith moans at the husky question. He’s certain all his blood just migrated straight to his dick. He’s never considered himself to be a possessive person, and he’s _never_ liked the concept of being anyone's omega. But that...the way it sounds coming from Shiro...

 

“Let me take care of you,” Shiro whispers in his ear, broad palm cupping the front of Keith’s jeans a split second before he swallows the omega’s happy whimper.

 

Keith’s fingers clench in Shiro’s shirt, hips bucking into the warm palm in a desperate attempt to gain some much needed friction against his dick and his core. But there’s too much fabric between them. He bites down on a curse, wanting Shiro to stop grinding the heel of his palm against Keith’s crotch and get it... move it...

 

A relieved moan breaks his voice when Shiro’s hand readjusts, hurriedly tugging on Keith’s belt before sliding under the denim and soft cotton briefs. The brush of his fingers against the trail of dark hair leading to his sex make Keith’s hips buck.

 

“Easy. Easy.”

 

Keith strongly believes that desperation isn’t a good look on anyone.  Neediness gets old fast. But here he is, wanton and desperate because Shiro’s still too _slow_. His throaty whine turns deeper in satisfaction as Shiro drags his middle finger between his slick folks, the tip running up against the underside of Keith’s dick.

 

It’s a deliberate drag against the hardened flesh, over far too quickly. “Is that okay?” Shiro asks softly.

 

\----

 

Keith nods carefully, keeping his eyes fixed on Shiro’s face. “Yeah. You can take your shirt off if you want.”

 

Stormy gray eyes peer down at him. Keith’s not sure what Shiro’s looking for. He just tries to projects as much earnest trust as he can, wordlessly trying to tell Shiro the ball is in his court. Whether the shirt is on or off, Keith doesn’t care.

 

The alpha’s eyes harden in determination before he shifts his weight back. The lights catch on Shiro’s arm as he uses both hands to pull his t-shirt off. Keith tells himself not to look, not to give into the temptation of checking out the scarred skin covering most of Shiro’s right side. He closes his eyes firmly, telling himself to focus on Shiro’s face - not on his body, especially not those scars. He’s not going to put Shiro in an uncomfortable position again.

 

Keith opens his eyes. Shiro’s reclining next to him on the bed, scars pressing into the sheets. A warm hand sweeps Keith’s hair back over his ear. There’s a faint tremble in Shiro’s touch that has Keith shifting closer in concern.

 

He touches Shiro’s collarbone, neck, cheek. “Are you okay?”

 

Shiro’s lips turn up at the corner, “Yeah. It’s a little scary. I haven’t done _this_ with anyone in a while.”

 

It’s touching to think that Shiro’s opening up to _him_. It feels like an honor and Keith feels his heart swell. “Thank you for trusting me.”

 

They kiss, slow and sweet. Keith traces circles in Shiro’s buzz cut with his fingertips. Satisfaction burns in him at the pleased rumble that echoes from Shiro’s chest at the touch. The longer he scratches Shiro’s scalp, the more Keith’s grin grows.

 

“Thank you,” Shiro sighs, turning to nuzzle Keith’s palm. The kiss he drops on Keith’s wrist makes his heart trip over itself.

 

In a voice barely above a whisper, Keith asks, “For what?”

 

Shiro shrugs. “Everything. Accepting me. Respecting the fact that I don’t want to be asked about what happened. I appreciate that.”

 

“It’s being a decent person. It’s not that hard.”

 

Shiro’s laugh is a tiny puff against Keith’s palm. “I guess that means decent people are hard to find these days then.”

 

He swallows reflexively when he feels Shiro’s smile tickling his rough palm. As gray eyes meet his, Keith’s arrested by the emotions he sees in their depths. He can’t name them, they’re too nebulous. But somewhere deep inside of him, they spark a feeling that sends shivers down his spine.

 

“You can touch them if you want.”

 

It’s barely a whisper but the offer is there, hanging in the air between them. Keith can’t help but stare at Shiro, rapidly trying to work out if the offer is genuine. Shiro’s smile doesn’t wane. His gaze remains soft and steady.

 

There’s no indecisiveness in Shiro’s gaze; the offer is genuine. So Keith nods, gingerly reaching out to touch the edges of the scarred tissue. His attention swift turns when his gentle touch has Shiro’s stomach caving, showing off his six pack in sharp detail. A spike of desire pierces Keith.

 

Without thinking about it, his fingers trail down to run down Shiro’s torso to tease him. Shiro tilts forward, pressing their mouths together in a bruising kiss.

 

\----

 

Gasping into Shiro’s mouth, Keith’s nails drag against his scarred side. He didn’t mean to, but the way Shiro’s teasing his dick with his tongue and lips is just...

 

Gratification floods him at the pleasurable hiss the unintended move pulls from Shiro. The sharp inhale feels cool against his core, sending shudders to rippling through Keith. His hands slide up, petting the alpha’s back and hair as he groans, “Shiro. I want to suck you off too.”

 

Shiro’s bright eyes fly up immediately. Keith’s eyes dip down, taking in the single thread of spit connecting his dick to Shiro’s lips and the slick on Shiro’s chin. He feels an odd mixture of embarrassment and pride. He gets _so_ wet when they’re together. Keith’s worried he may develop some kind of Pavlovian response thanks to these daily meetings.

 

A sharp bite to his hip bone makes Keith jump. He stares between his legs at Shiro’s smirk. “Where’d you go?”

 

Keith bites down the urge to say something stupid. He shakes his head, raising himself up on his elbows from his reclining position before sitting up. With both hands cupping Shiro’s face, Keith gently urges him up. Shiro obediently rises. They meet in the middle for a quick kiss before Keith murmurs, “It’s my turn to blow you.”

 

Keith’s words rip a plaintive groan from Shiro. “I might not last long. It’s been awhile,” Shiro confesses in a soft whisper.

 

“I promise I won’t judge you,” Keith reassures with a teasing grin, fingers running teasingly around the edges of Shiro’s underwear.

 

Shiro slides his metal arm around Keith as he pulls, dragging him into a lingering kiss that _almost_ distracts Keith from his intentions. He gives Shiro a warning look as he draws away, and earns an innocent look back. He taps Shiro’s chest in silent chastisement before deciding that there’s a better, more pleasurable way to punish the alpha.

 

He dips his head, pressing a deliberate kiss in the hollow of Shiro’s collarbone before dragging his teeth against the flesh. Shiro’s hands tighten their grip on Keith’s waist, flexing when Keith turns to lavish one dark nipple with attention and then the other. He nips, licks, sucks on the tender flesh until they’re firm and peaked. Overhead, Shiro gasps his name. There’s a thread of impatient desire in the noise that makes Keith smirk.

 

Keith lazily makes his way down Shiro’s body. He kisses the edges of Shiro’s scars, nuzzling them with his lips and nose before moving towards the trail of hair heading south into the alpha’s dark briefs. Keith takes in the masculine scent of Shiro’s desire and moans headily, feeling an ache gathering between his legs as he imagines how Shiro will feel in him.

 

Lightheaded, Keith shifts lower. With closed eyes he clumsily drags his mouth against the shape of Shiro’s clothed dick. There’s a damp spot at the top that Keith presses an open mouthed kiss to, adds more wetness with his tongue. His hands clamp down on Shiro’s thighs in warning when he bucks, groaning when he feels the alpha’s cock twitch against his mouth.

 

Keith lavishes attention on Shiro’s dick until his hips are jerking against the bed, struggling to stay still while Keith slowly drives him towards madness. One hand wrapped around the base of Shiro’s dick and the other palming his balls, Keith takes as much of Shiro as he can into his mouth.

 

The pleased alpha scent pouring off Shiro leaves Keith dizzy. It also stokes the fire in his belly, encouraging him to take more of Shiro’s dick into his mouth and groan. It makes him squirm with desire to stick his hand down his pants and rub himself off.

 

Pulling his mouth off, Keith groans, in a rough voice, “Shiro...”

 

\----

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 

He watches Shiro carefully as he finishes brushing his teeth, gargling a large mouthful of water before spitting it out. Shiro slips his toothbrush into its cup before quietly saying, “I want you to know. I’d _like_ you to know.”

 

Keith readjusts in the bathtub, water sloshing gently. The sound bounces off the tiles, entirely too loud due to the pin drop silence between them. He places his hands on the side of the tub, looks up at Shiro, and waits.

 

Shiro’s holding himself still - too still. He looks a statue left to the elements for too long, ready to crumble at the slightest touch. Keith’s surprised he doesn’t hear an audible crack when Shiro turns around with a deep sigh, presses his hip to the sink, and begins.

 

He talks about the time when he was a young pilot, selected test the newest, most classified ships. Fighter class, built for speed more than maneuverability.  He’d been warned over and over again that it would be dangerous, but Shiro had been eager to fly the fastest ship available.

 

Because these new ships were still in development and being tested, naturally this meant that bugs kept being found.

 

“Mostly it was small stuff. Some label not showing up right on the screen or the fuel gauge dropping too fast. But one time...”

 

Keith’s eyes are locked onto Shiro’s tight expression. He moves to stand, letting the water drip carelessly onto the floor as he approaches the alpha. Without a word, he gathers the taller man into a firm embrace and tells him, “That’s enough, Shiro.”

 

It’s only when Shiro’s arms jerk up and hesitantly wrap around Keith’s wet body, that Keith whispers, “Thank you for telling me.”

 

\----

 

“You’re _welcome_ ,” Hunk snarks as Keith snatches his phone’s charger cable out of his hands.

 

Keith shoots his roommate an apologetic look before returning his attention back onto his bag. He’s packed it for 5 days of his heat, which means packing a change of clothes, some lube, snacks, and other heat necessary items. But because he’s stuffed everything together without a care, things are taking up more space than they should.

 

 _Shiro’s going to laugh when he sees this,_ Keith things with a grin as he’s shoving the white cable into the heart of the mess when Hunk asks, “You’ve had your shot right?”

 

“Yeah, the company made sure we had those two weeks ago.”

 

“I hope you guys aren’t going to depend on just that shot. It’s the most effective form of birth control but it’s still 98.3% effective. You better use condoms too.”

 

Keith rolls his eyes as he shoves a pair of socks deeper into the mess before attempting to zip his bag close. “We know that, Hunk. Shiro’s going to bring a couple of boxes. We’re prepared for this.”

 

He’s even got the checklist to prove he’s ready. Andrew had given them both checklists - a list of things to put in their heat bags before they arrive. Keith’s ready to whip it out and show it to Hunk when his friend grumbles, “I don’t think you are, but whatever.”

 

Keith turns around, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I don’t think you’re ready for your heat,” Hunk repeats, crossing his arms. “More specifically, you’re not ready for the fall out.”

 

Keith lets out an exasperated noise. “If you’re talking about getting pregnant then we _just_ - _”_

 

“That’s not what I mean.” Hunk flounders for a moment, scratching the back of his head before saying, “When this whole thing started, you were so reluctant about it. You’ve been happier going to the dentist for a root canal. It was going to be... I don’t know. You didn’t really want to buy someone to spend your heat with.”

 

Something akin to dread is starting to pool in his chest, swirling together like pungent, putrid miasma.

 

“But then you met Shiro and decided to make a heat bond with him...” Hunk throws his hands up - supplicating for help from a higher power. “I don’t know, man. You’re happy about him, about _this -_ this whole messed up situation. And I’m happy for you! But... it seems to me that you’ve forgotten that you rented the guy.”

 

A lead ball drops into the pit of his stomach.

 

Hunk awkwardly continues, “I don’t want to rain on your parade or anything. But. I just think you need to be a little more realistic. If the guy is acting nice towards you? It’s just the heat pheromones or ... well. You paid for him to be your partner.”

 

“Don’t make him sound like a prostitute,” Keith quietly says.

 

With a small flush and an apology, Hunk falls silent. The air hangs thick, heavy between them.  

 

“All I’m saying,” Hunk says, gently, “Is please be careful.”

 

It feels too late for that.

 

“Keith?”

 

\----

 

He grunts in response, tightening his crossed arms before forcing himself to relax. From the driver’s seat, Lance shoots him a concerned look, “What’s up with you? Your heat didn’t start already, did it?”

 

Keith glares at the red light and wills it to turn green faster. “No.”

 

He’s already in pre-heat though. Keith knows this because of the ache in his legs, the horniness that’s been itching under his skin all day, and how his patience feels _extra_ thin today. If this heat is going to follow the pattern of his first heat, Keith’s going to go into full heat by nightfall. The aches are going to fade away soon, replaced by an ever increasing horniness and desire to be stretched full by his alpha partner.

 

Keith takes a discreet sniff and wonders if he’s letting off some kind of weird scent that Lance has picked up.

 

“Then what are you stinking up my car for? Do you have any idea how long it takes for worried omega smells to come out of these seats?”

 

Oh. _That’s_ what Lance meant. Privately Keith hopes his worried scent soaks deep into the seats and annoys Lance for weeks to come. He doesn’t answer Lance’s question though, opting to ignore it because he’s not sure if he wants to share his worries.

 

His conversation with Hunk is still rolling around his brain. The harsh reminder about his situation was unwelcome but it’s brought Keith back down to Earth. The happy fog he’d been lost in for the last few weeks has blown away by the force of Hunk’s words. All that’s left behind now, is mild dread and heavy resignation.

 

This is probably the last time he’s going to be with Shiro. After his heat they’ll part ways, the heat bond will disappear, and that’ll be it.

 

As the light turns green, Lance shifts gears. “You’re not worried about what Hunk said, are you?”

 

Keith shoots the lanky man a sharp look. “He told you?”

 

“Duh,” Lance flips on the turn signal. “He was kind of worried he may have been too hard on you.”

 

He wants to snark that it’s too little, too late, but bites his tongue. Keith closes his eyes, taking a steadying breath as he reminds himself that Hunk’s just concerned. He’s a great friend who just frets a lot. Sometimes unnecessarily but this time...

 

“He was right though,” Keith points out in a carefully controlled tone.

 

Keith waits for Lance to agree, to express his concerns as well. Instead, he pulls a face and says, “I guess so.”

 

Surprised, Keith stares at Lance’s profile, “You _guess_ so? You don’t think Hunk’s right?”

 

“Kind of?” Lance shrugs lightly. “He’s right that you ‘hired’ him to help you through your heat but that doesn’t mean it can’t _also_ be real. You’re the pickiest omega I know and you think most alpha’s stink.”

 

Scrunching his face, Keith mutters, “I’ve just got a sensitive nose.”

 

Lance snorts, “Like I said. _Picky_. But my point is that if you thought this guy smells nice and he’s been a great partner so far? Maybe it’s not _just_ the heat bond. Plus you gotta remember, you can’t form a heat bond with just _anyone_. It’s only people you’re _really_ compatible with.”

 

What is Lance saying? Keith slowly shakes his head before asking, “What are you getting at Lance?”

 

Lance smiles gently at him before answering, “What I’m trying to say is that maybe you shouldn’t give up hope so easily.”

 

Pensive and confused, Keith settles back into his seat. He stares unseeingly out the window, wondering which opinion he ought to trust more. Hunk’s words are steeped in reality and thoroughly grounded. But Lance words leave room for hope there that makes Keith’s heart race with anticipation.

 

\----

 

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice sharply pulls Keith back into the moment.

 

With a startled blink, he meets concerned gray eyes before looking around the room. “Where’d Andrew go?”

 

“He left a minute ago. Are you okay? You seem a little out of it.” Shiro’s palm rises up to check his temperature. “Your heat hasn’t started yet, has it?”

 

His eyes flutter shut at Shiro’s gentle touch, as some baser, more primal part of him sighs in satisfaction. It feels good to be the center of his alpha’s attention. Feels good to feel Shiro’s concern.

 

Keith shakes his head, pushing the heat fog away. He fights to stay in control, suddenly desperate to stay coherent for as long as he possibly can.

 

“I’m fine,” he reassures the alpha. “Just got some things on my mind.”

 

Shiro’s metal fingers rake through Keith’s hair, tenderly sweeping the silky strands off his face. “Is it serious? You seemed like you were a million miles away.”

 

Stomach twisting, Keith shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later. After we’re done.” No sense in ruining the entire heat by sharing his fears before they even start.

 

Forcing himself to smile warmly at the alpha, Keith asks, “Ready?”

 

“As I’ll ever be,” Shiro answers with a small laugh. His hands come to rest on Keith’s hips, fingertips teasing the hem of Keith’s shirt. His scent is starting to change, turning heavier and muskier. Shiro’s eagerness is contagious and Keith answers in kind. His own fingers take gentle hold of Shiro’s shirt and start to pull it up.

 

“You seem ready too.”

 

Pushing himself up to his tip toes, Keith catches Shiro’s lips in a quick kiss. The contact is firm and sweet. As he pulls away, Keith murmurs, “I’ve been ready for ages.”

 

Shiro’s the one to kiss him next, with greater insistence. It’s _exciting_ , to know that Shiro wants this as much as he does. Knowing that he’s wanted so badly makes the vague itch that’s been scratching at the base of his spine burst to life.

 

He falls back onto the bed with a grin, spreading his knees to welcome Shiro as he crawls into the open space. Keith slips his arms around Shiro and kisses him. He’s glad they decided to do this: to take their time getting to know each other and their likes.

 

And above all, Keith is so glad that he’ll be coherent during their first time together. He relishes the hand that runs up his back, the fingers that press against his lips, the drag of Shiro’s hardening cock against his own. Keith _savors_ every piece of contact and tucks it away in his memory.

 

He wants to make it just as good for Shiro. And that’s why he’s as vocal as he can be, because that’s a thing that Shiro likes. When Shiro stretches him open, admiringly pointing out how wet Keith already is, Keith whines deep from his core. He begs for Shiro to hurry him as he fumbles for a condom. He moans against Shiro’s tongue when he sweetly pushes his way into Keith. And finally, sighs in deep satisfaction when Shiro’s all the way in.

 

Dreamily, Keith smiles up at Shiro and cups his face with both hands. He peers deep into Shiro’s dark eyes and thinks, ‘ _I love him_.’

 

“Keith?”

 

“Mm?” he asks, a thumb pad gently sweeping across Shiro’s kiss swollen lips.

 

“Still with me?”

 

\----

 

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Keith moans, the heat fever finally taking over. He’s _so_ dizzy. He needs relief. But how can he get it? Shiro twitches underneath him. It’s the barest of movements but it causes the alpha’s cock to shift inside of Keith. He gasps.

 

 _That_. _I need more of that_.

 

His fingernails leave red trails across Shiro’s pecs as he curls his fingers into fists. He needs to anchor himself in some way or else he’s going to float away like a balloon with this dizzy fire that’s taken over.

 

Shiro holds him in place, grabbing Keith’s hips and thrusting up into him. It’s _perfect_. Keith moans happily, shifting so that he can put his hands on top of Shiro’s before moving to strike that spot again. And again. And _again_.

 

Distantly, he stares at Shiro’s lust filled expression and wants _more_. Shiro looks enthralled by him right now. Keith wants to be the only thing Shiro will _ever_ think about. He wants Shiro to feel what _he’s_ feeling - completely consumed by his lust.

 

“Shiro,” Keith keens, spreading his knees further into the sheets before raising himself up and letting gravity and Shiro’s firm grasp pull him back down. “ _Shiro_!”

 

\----

 

“I’m here. I’m right here,” Shiro reassures him, hurrying over from the bathroom, wet towel held around his hips by one hand. The other hand gestures for Keith to stay in bed. But he can’t. How can he stay in bed when Shiro’s all the way across the room?

 

Keith’s stumbling out of bed before Shiro’s there. He groans at the empty feeling that echoes through him as his knees hit the carpeted floor. “Shiro...” Keith tries again, trying to stand up on shaky legs. Shiro is in front of him in a heartbeat, hands trying to help Keith up but now that Shiro’s here...

 

Clumsily, Keith pulls Shiro’s towel out of the way and presses his mouth to the alpha’s dick. It’s soft right now but Keith will get it hard. He takes Shiro’s soft cock _all_ into his mouth and moans. He’ll get Shiro hard again, beg him to take him back to bed, and then... oh _then_.

 

 _If only he wouldn’t wearing condoms,_ Keith thinks with a groan, taking a deep breath of Shiro’s clean scent. Between his legs, an ache pulsates. _Then he could knock me up. I could be pregnant with his pups_.

 

Cool, damp fingers push his hair out of his face. Keith blinks and hazily turns his eyes up. The flare of heat he sees in Shiro’s eyes, coupled with the twitch of his cock inside of his mouth, make Keith leak slick. “Keith,” Shiro says huskily. “Come on baby, get up.”

 

\----

 

“Are you going to fuck me again?” Keith asks hopefully. Watching over his shoulder, he sees Shiro move. He’s relieved when he feels two fingers carefully breaching him, testing and readying him in equal parts. Keith eagerly moves his hand between his legs to take hold of Shiro’s cock and guide him in.

 

The stretch delights Keith as much as it fill him with pride. He lets his head fall back with a pleased sigh of, “You’re so _big_.”

 

He gets a sharp nip on his shoulder for that, followed by a quick kiss. Keith gasps praises into a stubbled cheek as Shiro begins to fuck him in earnest, quick hard thrusts that make it impossible for Keith to do anything except moan.

 

Every groan of his name falling out of Shiro’s lips stokes the steady fire inside of Keith. _Feeling_ Shiro’s knot forming, catching against his muscles before finally sinking all the way in? It turns Keith’s knees to jelly. He damn near collapses when Shiro frees a hand to slide between Keith’s legs and tease his dick.

 

\----

 

He keens, back arching, hand clawing against the wall. Shiro ignores his thready cries for relief, continuing to eat Keith out, one orgasm turning to another. The flat of Shiro’s hot tongue presses against his core, firmly licking its way up to Keith’s throbbing dick. The sharp little licks the alpha laves on the over sensitized nerves is too much.

 

Pleasure is ice cold by this point. It flashes through Keith, gathering in the pit of his stomach steadily. He feels like a string that’s been wound too tight and is on the edge of breaking. If only he’d break, _when_ will he break--

 

Keith’s voice cracks as he comes against Shiro’s tongue, thighs trembling uncontrollably.

 

\----

 

“Keith,” Shiro’s says sternly. The gentle admonition in his voice makes Keith open his eyes and peer up at the alpha. What has he done wrong? He’s sitting in Shiro’s lap like he’d wanted and is eating the food being fed to him. Was it wrong of him to suck on the alpha’s fingers while doing so?

 

The slightly stern look he’s getting tells him yes. He shouldn’t have done that. With a tiny, confused whine, Keith pouts and quietly accepts the next bite without licking Shiro’s fingertips like he wants to do.

 

“That’s better.”

 

The praise goes straight to his core, making him slick again. Keith squirms in his seat, fingers clenching. He’s been told to behave and eat. And if he’s good then Shiro will reward him. So Keith can’t touch Shiro right now.

 

 _Just a little patience_ , Keith tries to tell himself, closing his eyes as he guzzles water down. _Then Shiro will fuck me again_.

 

\----

 

Keith whines in confusion when Shiro’s arm around his waist stops him from moving. Water continues to slosh in the tub, splashing over the edge and onto the tiled floor. He opens his mouth to ask why they’re stopping.

 

In place of the question, a startled gasp comes out because Shiro quickly turns Keith on his back. The new position isn’t comfortable but now Shiro can spread his legs _wide_ and fuck Keith’s ass _hard_. Keith groans shamelessly as Shiro’s hands push on his knees, forcing him wide open to take Shiro in. Over and over again, each successively harder thrust pushing more water out of the tub.

 

His core _throbs_ with want. Keith’s got two fingers curled deep inside of him, working to match the frenetic thrusting of Shiro’s hips. Every part of him aches - his wrist, his dick, his thighs, his lower back. Keith’s strung tighter than a wire, every part of him tense in anticipation of a beautiful orgasm that’s going to tip him into darkness.

 

Color starts to fade at the corner of his vision when Shiro frees one hand to tease Keith’s dick, lightly flicking at the bundle of nerves until Keith’s undone. He digs his nails into the meat of Shiro’s thighs as he comes, clenching down around the alpha’s cock and his own fingers.

 

\----

 

He wakes up feeling overheated but _good_. Keith’s not sure what’s going on until he feels a hard grip on his thighs. He pushes the thin sheets off and moans at the sight. Shiro’s peering up from between his legs, mouth and chin _wet_ with Keith’s slick. The translucent, wet thread connecting Shiro’s bottom lip and Keith’s dick quivers and breaks.

 

“Morning,” he smirks up at the omega, canines flashing in his smug grin. “Did I wake you up?”

 

\----

 

“Yeah,” Keith gasps back, muscles fluttering around Shiro’s cock experimentally before he looks over his shoulder. “I’m fine. You can move.”

 

Shiro presses a hard kiss to his neck, hand sliding down to anchor itself more firmly around Keith’s waist before he pulls out and slams back in.

 

\----

 

He rolls them over, linking their hands together with a feral grin that Shiro mirrors before dropping his hips down with as much strength as his core as muster.

 

Satisfaction rolls through him when Shiro answers in kind.

 

\----

 

Shiro groans deeply as Keith’s tongue traces the shape of his knot lovingly. “I want you to knot my mouth,” he says dreamily, hand continuing to stroke Shiro’s orgasm out of him completely.

 

The hand in his hair tightens minutely.

 

\----

 

His head tilts back, groaning as Shiro peppers his neck and face with kisses. How many times has he come already? Clearly not enough because while the repeated sexual intercourse has left him pleasantly sore and tingly, Keith’s hunger for coming on Shiro’s dick hasn’t been satiated.

 

\----

 

Keith groans because Shiro’s rubbing the head of his dick against Keith’s and it’s not enough. He needs more. He needs to be knotted again.

 

\----

 

Satisfaction rolls through him at the deep groan that echoes in Shiro’s chest as Keith rocks on his knot, rolling his hips leisurely as he milks the alpha’s orgasm for all its worth.

 

\----

 

“Shiro...” Keith sighs, arms tight around Shiro’s back, cheeks rubbing together. He feels so warm and comfortable, a golden glow pulsing inside of him as Shiro comes.

 

\----

 

Shiro buries his face against Keith’s neck, groaning his name as he sinks all the way inside of the omega.

 

\----

 

Awareness gradually creeps up on Keith - slow and careful as the beams of sunlight creeping in through the parted curtains. He exhales slowly, sluggishly taking stock.

 

He’s in a darkened room. _Heat room_ , he reminds himself. _So the person I’m cuddling has to be Shiro._ Keith cracks a tired eye open to confirm. He stares at the broad back, the scarred side, and the undercut and feels fondness blossom in his heart.

 

Smiling, he presses his forehead against the open space between Shiro’s shoulder blades. Keith closes his eyes and ignores his sore, aching muscles. In fact, his smile grows, shoulders shaking as he wonders if it’s possible that _any_ part of him doesn’t feel sore?

 

His brain happily provides him with a highlights reel of the last three days. Keith feels his face turn red as he remembers _all_ the sex that they’ve had so far. _God... I really put Shiro through his... wait. Three days?_

 

Keith raises himself up to peek at the display on Shiro’s side of the bed. It’s dimmed but clearly visible from his vantage point. An unsettling feeling takes root as he tells himself, _That can’t be right._

 

The four words echo in his head, over and over again because it _can’t_ be. During his last heat, Keith hadn’t come out of his heat until the end of the sixth day. Even then, he’d been dazed - stuck in the hazy space between dreams and reality. He hadn’t felt himself until the dawn of the seventh day.

 

But here he is, in bed with his heat partner as the fourth day of his heat starts feeling completely and utterly in control of himself. Tentatively, Keith searches within himself for any lingering remnants of his heat. There’s only the faintest embers left behind, just barely to be carefully stoked into a flame.

 

It’s nothing like the inferno that has engulfed him in the days prior.

 

However, when Keith thinks about the heat days past, another oddity pops up - how much he remembers of the experience. He only has one heat to go by, but the thing Keith is that he doesn’t remember most of it. It’d been a blur of seven days.

 

Keith stares at the blinking clock display and wonders what the hell’s going on. How could he retain so many memories of his heat with Shiro? Was it because he had a partner? Was it because he’d formed a heat bond with the alpha?

 

He’s struggling not to let his worries get the better of him when Shiro stirs. Keith holds his breath as he sees dark lashes flutter open, gray eyes sleepily taking stock of their surroundings. He bites his bottom lip as Shiro catches sight of him, awake and alert, a small smile pulling the corner of his lips up.

 

“Hey baby,” the roughness of his voice sends a pleasant bolt of heat through his body. Keith swallows, ready to greet Shiro back but a broad palm cuts him off, cupping his cheek, sleep clumsy. “You still want more?”

 

 _He doesn’t know. He still thinks I’m in my heat_.

 

Keith opens his mouth to tell Shiro this but Shiro interrupts again. This time with a warm kiss that steals Keith’s breath away. The pressure is firm and insistent, urging Keith to fall back. Shiro follows immediately, hands gently pushing Keith’s legs apart.

 

He whimpers as Shiro teases his sore dick, moaning, “Shiro. That hurts.”

 

“Too sore?” When Keith nods in reply, Shiro presses an apologetic kiss to the high point of his cheek. “Sorry. Want me to grab some lube? You’re a little dry right now.”

 

Keith nods before he knows it, pausing only when Shiro turns towards the nightstand. He sticks a hand between his legs to check. Careful fingers run between sensitive flesh and gather enough slick to wet his fingers. It’s more than what he usually produces he supposes but...

 

Shiro’s husky laugh pulls him back into the moment. The alpha uncaps the lube and pours a hefty amount onto his right palm. “Eager, huh? Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

 

As Shiro’s fingers wet him thoroughly, Keith bites his lip and decides he’s not going to think about it. Not yet. At the very least, he’s not going to give voice to his concerns. It doesn’t matter if his heat has broken days in advance. They’ve got this room for a week. He’s got _Shiro_ for _just_ three more days.

 

Keith digs his nails into Shiro’s back, desperate to keep him in place as he slowly sinks inside of him. He’s going to be selfish about this. He keeps his eyes wide open, taking in every vivid detail of this moment. The way part of Shiro’s fringe clings to his sweaty forehead, the way his breathing strains whenever Keith’s muscles squeeze down on him, the firm press of his fingertips against his thighs as he whispers for Keith to relax.

 

He feels he’s successfully masked the truth at first. But then their eyes meet. Keith stares up into Shiro’s gaze and sees a spark of understanding. Keith holds his breath, fingers tightening on the alpha’s biceps.

 

Shiro’s going to call him out any second now - ask him if Keith’s there, if his heat’s broken. But surprisingly, shockingly, Shiro doesn’t say a word. He just stares back at Keith for a long, long moment before relaxing his grip. Metal fingers carefully brush hair out of his eyes, ensuring complete contact between their eyes.

 

“Are you okay?” Shiro asks quietly.

 

Shiro’s concern is touching. Paranoia however, makes Keith wonder how much of Shiro’s feelings are genuine. He’s still under the influence of this heat bond. Hunk’s cautious advice and Lance’s idealistic words echo in Keith’s mind.

 

 _It can’t all be a lie though, right?_ He wonders. There’s no answer except white noise.

 

Taking a deep breath, Keith nods slowly.

 

He doesn’t know the truth. He won’t know it until later. But in this moment, Keith knows one thing. It doesn’t matter what’s the cause or reason behind the present situation. He just wants to enjoy Shiro in the little time they have left.

 

With new resolve, Keith reaches up to touch Shiro’s face and pull him into a firm kiss.

 

After that, there’s a subtle change in mood that catches Keith by surprise. He’d braced himself for a hard fuck that would push him to his limits. But instead he finds himself flustered and challenged by gentle love making he’s not sure how to process. Keith’s not sure what to do with his hands or where to look before giving up and hiding his flushed face against Shiro’s neck.

 

Each thrust is careful and gentle, mindful of the fact that Keith’s still sore. Shiro’s hands stroke up his sides, cup his face, squeeze his ass, comb through his hair. His voice shakes with every gasp of Keith’s name. He sounds utterly undone. Keith’s amazed and _proud_. He’s the one who’s made Shiro sound like that. He’s the reason why Shiro’s hands are shaking a little when it moves between their sweaty bodies.

 

“Shiro, Shiro, Shiro,” Keith whimpers in return, clinging tighter and tighter despite, or perhaps because of their looming deadline. Their unavoidable parting.

 

As if sensing his desperation, Shiro’s thrusts pick up pace. “Keith. Oh _fuck_!”

 

\----

 

“Sorry!” Andrew apologizes, pulling a face as he comes to a halt. “I forgot to bring the papers you’re supposed to sign before you leave. Can you guys wait in the reception area while I go grab them?”

 

Tightening his grip on his bag, Keith nods. He watches the stout man hurry away. Dread gathers in the bottom of his stomach. Now that they’re done and at the end of the contract, Keith’s not sure how to spend time around Shiro. He hears Shiro shift next to him before quietly suggesting, “You want to sit down?”

 

Keith nods, heading towards the nearest empty seats without checking to see if Shiro’s following. He throws himself into the plaid seat, clutching his bag in his lap without looking up. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Shiro carefully lower himself down into the empty seat on his left.

 

 _Why am I acting like such an ass?_ Keith mentally chides himself, staring at a bag strap. A stern voice reminds him that he’s doing this to make it hurt less. _Still doesn’t mean you should be acting like_ this _._

 

The heat bond is going to fade soon, his last connection to Shiro ending with it. It’s best to try to minimize the pain he’s going to feel as much as possible. The sooner he distances himself from Shiro, the sooner the healing process can start.

 

The problem is biting back the urge to comfort Shiro. His hurt and confusion over the sudden distance Keith’s put between them since his heat as “officially” ended has been palpable. It coats the back of his throat and Keith chokes on the bitter taste of it.

 

Outside of the room where they’d spend the last few days making gentle, tender love to each other, reality burns. It’s harsh and unforgiving. The reminder that he’d rented Shiro’s ‘services’ for his heat comes knocking on the door as soon as the week is up.

 

Despite everything, there’s a tiny spark of hope still burning in his heart.  Keith’s torn between smothering it, extinguishing its light, or protecting it with both hands.. Tiredly, Keith rubs his brow and sighs. _Can someone tell me what’s the right thing to do already? I’m tired of thinking about this_.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

The deep concern laced in Shiro’s question causes his self-control to crack. Through his fingers, Keith replies, “No. I’m not.”

 

“Is it post-heat sickness? Do you feel nauseous?”

 

Looking up helplessly into Shiro’s worried face, Keith opts for the truth and says, “No. It’s not that.”

 

Shiro lightly shakes his head to signify his confusion, “What is it then?”

 

“You,” Keith wants to sob and laugh at the same time. “I don’t know what to do about _you_.”

 

The widening of Shiro’s gray eyes unlocks the rest of the answer. Keith’s shoulders sag as he talks. “It’s been an amazing week. It’s been an amazing _month_. But I’m not sure how much of it was our biology taking over and how much of it wasn’t us following our pheromones. And it’s _killing_ me because I really want it to be more than our heat bond. I want to have something _real_ with you that’s more than you and me being an alpha and an omega.”

 

Shiro’s lips part, shaping soundless words before pausing. He swallows loud enough for Keith to hear it before trying again. His voice is low and hurt. “It _was_ real, Keith.”

 

“I want to believe that too but. What _if_ Shiro? What if it’s just the heat bond talking? I don’t want to wake up two weeks from now and not feeling _anything_.”

 

Gray eyes pull away, pensively staring at the beige carpet. It’s the kind of neutral shade most offices opt for and most customers ignore. But Shiro’s staring at it like it holds the answers to life, the universe, and everything.

 

“What are you suggesting?” Shiro finally asks, not looking up.

 

Keith presses his lips together as his roiling thoughts finally still.  He wants to see if that pinprick of light that’s burning deep inside of him can be saved. “We should wait a month and see what happens when the heat bond fades. If what we feel about each other is real then the heat bond won’t matter. We’ll still be attracted to each other.”

 

“And if it fades and there’s nothing?”

 

He nervously licks the back of his teeth. Despair tastes like bile. “Then we’ll know.”

 

There’s a long moment of silence during which three couples march into the lobby and head up an elevator together. Shiro and Keith stare at everything but each other. Their silence is finally broken when an elevator dings quietly before the metal doors part smoothly. A sweaty faced Andrew emerges, a folder tucked under his arm.

 

Keith stands, but before he can walk up to Andrew, metal fingers curl around his wrist. Startled, his gaze shifts down and lock with gray eyes.

 

“Do you believe it’s more than that?” Shiro asks quietly. “That it was more than pheromones?”

 

He gives in and touches Shiro’s hand, squeezing his fingers as hard as he can. “I want to believe it’s more than the bond talking.”

 

 _That’s all I can offer_.

 

Shiro’s eyes gauge the answers given before sighing. His fingers let Keith’s wrist slip away. It feels like a loss. Like they’re breaking up. Keith discreetly moves his hands behind his back so he can press his own palm around his wrist in a useless attempt to lock in the feeling of Shiro’s fingers on his skin.

 

“Okay,” Shiro sighs in defeat. “We’ll do it your way.”

 

\----

 

“Your way _sucks_ ,” Pidge makes a face at her computer screen, obviously judging the code that’s Keith’s been working on. “This is all so inefficient! Why’d you put this here? You could have just-”

 

“I didn’t ask for a critique of my work! I just asked if you could help me figure out why it’s not working!” Keith snaps, angrily slamming a plate of re-heated cinnamon buns down on the coffee table next to Pidge’s cooling coffee. Hunk’s out on a date with Lance. But if he was here, he’d sharply reprimanded Keith.

 

“If all you’re going to do is tell me I messed up then I’m taking my laptop back.”

 

The pause that follows is short but deeply awkward. Pidge quietly straightens in her seat, coming out of her slouch as she mumbles, “Sorry.”

 

With a frustrated noise, Keith rubs his eyes, “ _Sorry_. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just... I’ve been really stressed lately. I need to make sure we’re back on track with this project.”

 

Pidge purses her lips together. She’s staring at the computer screen again but Keith knows her mind is a million miles away on another topic.

 

“Are you sure it’s the project and not something else?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She ignores his sharp look, opting instead of scratch her cheek. She’s clearly debating the merits of having this conversation. But eventually, she sighs and turns to meet Keith’s questioning gaze. “Are you sure your crappy mood isn’t related to Shiro?”

 

“It’s not.”

 

His reply is swift. Maybe _too_ swift, because Pidge’s eyes fill with disbelief. “Really? You don’t think you’re being the crankiest asshole in the world because you’re missing Shiro?”

 

Keith scowls heavily at the girl, “I’m not the crankiest asshole in the world!”

 

With an eye roll to end all eye rolls, Pidge throws her hands up in the air with a mocking, “I’m sorry, my mistake! I totally misread all your crankiness for the last two weeks. Which, by the way, is when you came back from your heat.”

 

“I still don’t see what’s that got to do with Shiro.”

 

Pidge raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “You _really_ don’t think there’s a connection between your bad mood and you going cold turkey on Shiro?”

 

He opens his mouth to say yes but… can’t.  The word gets stuck in his throat. Defeated, Keith closes his mouth and looks down at his lap.

 

Pidge sighs. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith sees Pidge turn to face him. “Listen. I can’t even begin to imagine what this has been for you. But I don’t think it was a good call to ignore Shiro the way you decided to.”

 

Keith lets out a helpless noise before pressing his hands into his face. He sweeps his fingers through his hair, tugging and asks, “What else was I supposed to do?” He tries to remember his conviction after his heat, but all he feels is helpless and hurt. “I didn’t know what else I could have done.”

 

“Why’d you do it anyways?” He turns his head to look at Pidge. She’s looking at him curiously, like a magpie examining a particularly shiny object. “Was it because of the heat bond?”

 

He nods once. “I wasn’t sure if what we had was real or not.”

 

Pidge hums and absently adjusts her position. She props her chin up on a raised knee. “So you thought you’d make sure it was. Real, I mean.”

 

“Yeah. I needed to know it wasn’t all...” Keith gestures at himself weakly.

 

Thankfully, Pidge can fill in the blanks. “I get it. But uhh. That still doesn’t explain the cold turkey part.”

 

“I thought it’d be easier to make a clean break. It felt like the right thing to do.”

 

She points a finger at him. “ _That’s_ the part that I don’t get. Wouldn’t it be easier to gradually cut yourself off?”

 

“It’s letting a heat bond fade away, not...” Keith struggles to find an apt metaphor. “Detox.”

 

“Technically speaking, it kind of _is_ like detoxing. A heat bond creates unique chemicals inside your system, including dopamine. It’s like you’re experiencing a really long, natural high. So, when it comes to the bond breaking you-”

 

Keith shoots Pidge a wry look, “Can we skip the science.”

 

“Sorry. My point is, it’s not that different from detoxing. And going cold turkey has been proven to be ineffective in the long run. There’s lots of studies that say you’re more likely to relapse if you quit cold.”

 

“But that’s drugs or cigarettes. This is a heat bond. It’s _supposed_ to wear off soon without any side effects.”

 

With a soft noise, Pidge props her chin on her knee and peers knowingly at Keith. “I don’t think it is for you. After all, a heat bond usually fades to nothing by the second week.”

 

“But not always.”

 

There’s a 1 in 20 chance, as a matter of fact, and Keith’s squarely put himself in minority.  He’s had all the major irritating symptoms of a slow fading heat bond. The annoying itch under his skin of missing “his” alpha. Difficulties falling asleep because his hormones say he’s missing Shiro’s body heat. The odd anxiety gnawing at the corner of his soul because _something’s wrong_. And the best part, the unexplainable unease niggling at his every waking moment.

 

He sure can’t wait for day 21 to rise so that he can be done with this heat bond nonsense.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Pidge’s quiet voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Keith blinks at her, waiting for her to continue. She’s hugging her knee now. “Why are you so sure your heat bond is going to break?”

 

Confused, Keith asks, “Is there an alternative option?”

 

“That he just might be your mate?”

 

Scoffing, Keith leans back in his seat. “That’s not possible.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It’s just... not.”

 

“It’s not possible that you fell in love with the guy?”

 

The lump in his throat is so large, Keith’s surprised it isn’t cutting off his breathing. He tries to swallow past it but his throat is too dry. He tips his head against the sofa back and sighs up at the ceiling, not answering Pidge’s question.

 

She persists, voice growing softer. “You don’t think it’s possible that he fell in love with _you_?”

 

Keith ignores the prickle of heat growing in the corner of his eyes, adamantly refusing to acknowledge the way his stomach rises and falls with hope. He doesn’t have the strength to admit that yeah. He doesn’t think it’s possible. After a string of relationships that all ended in accusations that he was too weird, too angry, too confusing - who could love him? Who would?

 

The couch squeaks as Pidge shifts. Keith’s eyes remain closed when he feels small hands wrap around his shoulder and gather him in a hug. Tiredly, he rests his head against her shoulder and takes a deep breath. There’s the faintest smell of sweat and dried lavender. It’s grounding.

 

He exhales into her shirt as she tightens her grip. “I know it’s hard but you need to have a little more faith.”

 

“Faith in what?” Keith rasps against her t-shirt.

 

“In yourself. In him. In whatever it is that’s between you.”

 

After a long, long pause, Keith nods weakly, murmuring, “I’ll try.”

 

\----

 

“That’s all I ask,” Andrew cheerfully tells him. “You’d be surprised at how helpful even a single good customer review can be for a business. So I’d really appreciate it if you could write something positive about your experience with us.”

 

Keith stares at the feedback form with no small amount of trepidation. “Is there anything I should say in specific?”

 

“Just talk about what you liked and if you’d recommend us to someone else. Whatever you’d like to say.” Andrew taps the top of the document. “On the other side there’s a section where you can leave suggestions and feedback for service improvement too, if that’s what you want.”

 

Keith stares at the first question: ‘How would you describe your experience with _Evergreen Matches_?’  He wonders if he can get away with just writing ‘Good.’

 

What the hell.

 

Keith keeps his answers brusque and to the point, only going into detail where he feels necessary. He sticks to short sentences and only describing the parts of the service he actually liked. There’s plenty of empty white on the page when he slides it back to Andrew.

 

Andrew glances over the first few questions absently before turning the page to peruse the small list of suggestions Keith’s scribbled. It’s a small break in conversation that Keith takes advantage of to ask the question that’s been burning in his mind for a while now. It’s a question Keith’s wanted to ask in his first post-heat check-up. And his second. And now his third.

 

“Has uh... has Shiro been coming in for these meetings too?”

 

Without glancing up, Andrew answers, “They’re mandatory post-heat meetings, so yes.”

 

“Has he said anything?”

 

Keith’s fishing so badly he’s surprised Andrew doesn’t just laugh at him.

 

“He’s said a lot of things.” With a kindly look at Keith, Andrew continues. “He’s asked about you.”

 

Keith’s heart leaps with hope. “He has?”

 

“Yes. He’s asked how you were doing and if you’ve asked about him. I tell him I can’t break your confidence like that.”

 

“Then why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because I was waiting for you to bring him up. I was _hoping_ you would,” Andrew corrects himself, sliding Keith’s feedback into his folder. “Because of that, I feel that I can tell you that Shiro’s still very much interested in you.”

 

“But... the heat bond...”

 

Andrew laughs and shakes his head, fingers linked on the table. “Keith. That never lasts more than 20 days. And even that’s _extremely_ rare. I’m talking 1% of all alpha’s and omega’s in the _world_. And today’s your twentieth day. Whatever it is you’re feeling? It’s not your heat bond, you can be sure of that.”

 

His heart is _hammering_ against his ribs. It’s beating so hard and fast Keith’s surprised he hasn’t keeled over. “I thought it was more like 5% of the total population?”

 

“If you’re referring to the study I’m thinking of, well. They had pretty broad variables and requirements. Their conclusions weren’t something anyone would call accurate, much less significant. There are more reliable studies that show the average heat bond to last between 10-15 days.”

 

Something inside of him is shaking so hard Keith’s shocked his bones aren’t _rattling_ due to the force of it. With a shake of his head, he asks, “Then why do I still feel this emptiness? This... _itch_ inside of me that I can’t reach? This feeling that I need to go somewhere?”

 

“That’s not your heat bond Keith. It’s probably just you missing your alpha and wanting to be near him. A heat bond fades naturally over the course of two weeks. The feelings don’t stay or intensify. If you’re still feeling a loss, an emptiness inside of you that you know can only go away if you’re next to your partner? That’s probably your omega telling you to go to your mate.”

 

_His mate?_

 

His head spins trying to understand Andrew’s words. Keith swallows, hoping to wet his throat but it’s useless. His voice is rough when he grates out, “Is there any way to be _sure_?”

 

“Like I said, it’s been twenty days now. The heat bond _should_ have faded away. If you’re still feeling a sense of loss then you need to meet with Shiro. And if that “itch” you’ve been feeling goes away then... that’s your answer.”

 

It seems simple enough.

 

\----

 

 _Too simple_ , Keith thinks darkly to himself.

 

He’s seated in the middle of a busy-ish cafe that’s near Shiro’s office, two tables away from the entrance. As soon as Shiro walks in, he should see Keith sitting there, brooding with his arms crossed and staring at the door.

 

 _It can’t be that easy can it? If we meet and I’ll just know? Seems unreliable_.

 

The urge to bounce his leg is _high_. Keith’s not a fidgeter but he’s feeling unusually antsy waiting for Shiro to show up. For the nth time, his eyes fly to the clock hanging behind the counter. It’s three minutes past two; a whole two minutes have passed since the last time he checked the time. And Shiro is _late_.

 

 _It’s not late if it’s only three minutes past the meeting time_ , he has to remind himself. Keith exhales shortly and reminds himself to unclench. Unfolding his arms, Keith dips his hand inside his jacket to check his phone again. No new messages from Shiro but there _are_ a few new ones from his friends.

 

He scrolls through them quickly, annoyed and touched by how invested his friends are in this. Keith’s tapping out a reply when the front door opens. His eyes fly up, heart in his throat. A hijabi checks the store out, clutching her purse strap as she searches for someone. Disappointed, Keith leans back in his seat and goes back to finishing his response.

 

Once the message is sent, Keith puts the phone away and checks the clock again. Its six past two now and still no Shiro. With a short exhale, Keith goes back to sitting cross armed, staring the entrance down and trying to shove his anticipation down to a manageable level.

 

_Maybe I should message Shiro and ask where he is..._

 

He rolls the idea around in his head until 2:07 and decides he’s going to do it. Keith’s got the message typed up and ready to go when a familiar figure hurries through the door, wide eyes sweeping the room.

 

As soon as their eyes meet, Shiro turns a bright smile at him, unchecked and filled with happiness. Keith’s on his feet, heart in his throat and happiness overwhelming him. The sight of Shiro’s smile warms Keith all the way down to his toes and fingertips.

 

Shiro looks good. _Amazing_ even with the blush of color on his cheeks and the bright glimmer in his eyes. As the alpha walks over, Keith dazedly wonders if he’s suddenly developed a fever as he catches his first hit of Shiro’s scent after three weeks. Greedily Keith sucks in a deep breath of the alpha’s wonderfully crisp scent that floats his way and something inside of him clicks.

 

Calm floods over him like a wave. Certainty, crystal clear, solidifies inside of him. The tension he’s been carrying between his shoulder blades for weeks melts the second Shiro comes to stop before him and breathlessly says, “Hi.”

 

“Hi,” Keith says in the same breathless, happy tone.

 

They both pause for an indecisive moment before grinning. As one, they move to embrace each other tightly. It’s _perfect_. Keith closes his eyes and soaks in the feeling of Shiro’s arms, scent, body against his own. His blood sings in recognition of his mate, the anxiety that’s been wracking him for weeks fading away to nothing within a heartbeat.

 

A breathless laugh blows past his ear and makes Keith shiver. But he also can’t help but laugh, overwhelmed with happiness because Shiro’s _here_! His mate is _here_!

 

It’s that thought that makes him gently push Shiro back, trying to get a smidge of space.  Once he does, Keith’s hands rise up to cup the alpha’s face. They’re both smiling at the initial brush of their lips but it quickly turns into a heated reunion kiss that causes one of the patrons to let out a cheeky wolf whistle.

 

If he wasn’t so happy, Keith would be a little embarrassed about the public show of affection but as it is, he can’t help but laugh into the kiss. And laugh again when Shiro’s tongue teasing swipes over his lips before finally pulling away. With one last peck, Keith pulls away, hand sliding down Shiro’s arms.

 

Keith marvels at all the little things he hadn’t realized before - like how his head comes just under Shiro’s chin, how Shiro’s hands are a perfect fit around his waist, how lovely Shiro’s smile is.

 

He feels complete and whole. It’s a sense of awareness and certainty not unlike to the feeling of following his gut. But it’s more than that. It’s a deeper instinct, something he would hesitantly describe as soul deep. Keith just knows all the way down to his bones (and further), that Shiro’s his alpha.

 

A similar revelation is unfolding inside of Shiro. Keith can see it happening in Shiro’s eyes, which go through a series of emotions that he’s going through himself - the biggest ones being relief and wonder.

 

He smiles up at the older man, voice low, “Thank you for coming.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?” A finger tenderly guides a stray hair back into Keith’s fringe. Shiro smiles down at him, gentle and benevolent. “I was waiting for you to call me.”

 

Regret fills him in an instant, wondering if Shiro felt the same level of irritation and confusion as himself in the last three weeks. “I’m sorry I took so long. I didn’t realize...just-”

 

Shiro squeezes his waist. “I get it. You wanted to be sure.”

 

With a grateful nod, Keith sighs out, “Yeah. I met with Andrew yesterday and helped me realize that what was I was feeling wasn’t my heat bond fading. It was my mate bond wanting to be _completed_.”

 

Shiro’s smile turns shy. The sight of it floods Keith with joy. He rubs circles into the soft cotton of Shiro’s t-shirt, offering comfort and encouragement. Shiro’s voice is low but hopeful when he asks, “You want that with me?”

 

“Yes,” Keith answers back firmly. “You?”

 

“I’ve wanted that since the second I laid eyes on you.”

 

With a startled blink, Keith asks, “What? You did?” After Shiro nods, Keith goes on to inquire, “Why didn’t you say anything then?”

 

“It would have been too much. You didn’t come looking for a mate. You just wanted a heat partner. If I had said, ‘Hey, I think you’re my mate,’ during your heat, would you have believed me?”

 

Keith thinks about and hesitates about it long enough that Shiro laughs, “Exactly.”

 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Keith asks, “What about afterwards? When we were done.”

 

“You seemed in such a hurry to go away that I just... couldn’t,” Shiro smiles wryly at him. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve been with a lot of partners for my rut and _never_ formed a heat bond with _any_ of them. I wanted to tell you my suspicions but... you seemed really troubled so I stayed quiet.”

 

Shamefully, Keith lowers his gaze. “I’m sorry. I know I acted like an ass that day. But I was scared of my feelings for you. I wasn’t sure how much of it was the pheromones and how much of it was _me_.”

 

He looks back up into Shiro’s understanding gaze, takes a deep breath and says, “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

 

“Apology accepted,” Shiro answers immediately. “I’m sorry too, for-”

 

“I get it,” Keith interrupts. “It’s okay.”

 

He’s ready to launch into a series of new questions when someone loudly and pointedly clears their throat next to them. With a small start, Keith turns to look at the amused looking store manage who is eyeing them both.

 

“As happy as I am for you two, would you like to place your order now?”

 

\----

 

As he roots around the cupboard for the paprika, Keith says, “Yes, we’re doing fine Andrew. How are you?”

 

“Pretty good all things considered. Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?” The man’s voice comes a little static-y through the speakerphone. Keith wonders if Andrew’s calling from his cell or if their phone needs fixing.

 

Shifting a few bottles out of the way, Keith answers back, “Nope. Just getting dinner ready. How can I help you?”

 

He can feel a few bottles shoved into the corner of the cabinet and begins to pull them up one by one to read the label. _Cayenne, onion powder, aha._ Keith pulls the paprika out and places it next to the other ingredients. _All that’s left is the prep work_.

 

“I wanted to call and ask if you and Shiro are going to be a renting a heat room with us again? It’s almost time for your heat again isn’t it?”

 

“It almost is yeah. But uhh...”

 

Tiramisu, their cat, perks up in her seat. Her ears are trained in the direction of the front door, listening keenly. She slips off her perch on the sunny cat tree and ambles down the hallway, meowing softly as the front door creaks open.

 

“I’m home,” Shiro announces. “Hey ‘misu! Did you miss me?”

 

The fluffy white Turkish Angora meows back as Andrew asks, “Is that Shiro?”

 

At the sound of his name, Shiro walks into the living room/dining area with Tiramisu in his arms and asks, “You called?”

 

“Andrew,” Keith points at the phone with a grin. “Did you get the chicken?”

 

Shiro waggles the plastic bag hanging off his left arm, an invitation for Keith to take it. At the same time, he says at the phone, “Hi Andrew, how are you?”

 

“I’m doing well, doing really well. Just called to ask if you guys are going to be renting a heat room again?”

 

With a tiny smile, Keith nods at Shiro to tell Andrew the good news. Shiro’s crooked grin is warm and happy as he says, “Sorry Andrew, not this time. We’ll be coming by to get the usual birth control shots but not a room. We uhh... we moved in together.”

 

Tiramisu squirms her way out of Shiro’s grip the second Keith takes the poultry away, meowing up a storm as she chases Keith’s heels. Shiro lets her go, grumbling under his breath while Andrew happily exclaims, “That’s great! You finally found a place you liked?”

 

“Only after a year of searching,” Shiro jokes, sitting down in the closest seat to the phone. “But we finally did it.”

 

Their never ending hunt for an apartment has turned into a running gag by now. Keith argued that it’s not bad to know exactly what you want. High standards are a _good_ thing. That was, after all, how he found Shiro.

 

“You should come see it once we’ve settled in Andrew,” Keith says, gently pushing the green eyed cat away with his foot before he starts washing the chicken breasts in the sink. “It’s got a great view from the balcony. Lots of storage space. Nice kitchen.”

 

On the other end of the call, Andrew laughs, “Say when and where and I’ll be there. But I’m really happy to hear that.”

 

Shiro and Keith exchange a warm smile that quickly turns to alarm when Tiramisu manages to jump on top of the kitchen counter. They scramble as one to stop her from sticking her nose into the marinade, Keith whisking the bowl away while Shiro grabs her and puts her back down. On the phone, Andrew blithely chatters away.

 

“It’s always so nice to hear when the couples you’ve brought together are taking those big life steps together. It really puts your faith back in people and keeps me excited about working! I hope you guys stay in touch though, we offer a lot of services for mated couples too.”

 

“We know,” they say as one, Keith dryly and Shiro in amusement. Andrew may be a friend now, but he still does his best to sell them more services whenever they call or meet. The way he keeps gently bringing up the different options available for couples who are trying reminds Keith of a fretting mother-in-law. Only, his own future in-laws don’t hint at grandchildren nearly as hard as Andrew does.

 

Andrew laughs sheepishly while Tiramisu yowls her dissatisfaction. Shiro shoos her out of the kitchen area as the man continues, “So, when should I expect you guys to come in?”

 

“Next Friday. Around 5,” Shiro answers, peering at Keith with an eyebrow raised.  It’s a silent inquiry if Keith wants help getting dinner ready.

 

With a small shake of the head, Keith gestures for Shiro to go finish unpacking the last two boxes in the living room. Shiro kisses his forehead, mouthing those precious three words at Keith before heading over to the couch. The crinkle of bubble wrap pulls the white cat’s tail up, making it twitch with curious excitement as she goes to investigate.

 

“Perfect. I’ll see you guys then.”

 

Echoing the farewell, Keith presses the button to end the call. He takes a moment, reflecting on the past 18 months and his present. In spite of all the ups and downs that come with any relationship, Keith would say they’re doing quite well.

 

Tiramisu makes a leap for Shiro’s hands as he tucks books away in the bookshelf. The alpha laughs, sweeping the cat into his arms with a murmur Keith can’t catch. The sight of him dropping a kiss on the cat’s head makes Keith smile. There are days where he can’t believe he’s gotten so lucky. He’ll look at amazement at Shiro, wondering at the unique circumstances and string of chances that brought them together.

 

“How much longer till dinner?” Shiro interrupts his thoughts. “I’m _starving_.”

 

Keith shakes his head and answers back, “About thirty.”

 

“Still isn’t too late to order pizza.”

 

It’s a tempting offer to someone like him who adores hot, greasy fast food, but he’s trying to improve his eating habits. Knowing that Shiro’s fond of home cooking makes Keith want to cook more. So he’s been gradually expanding his culinary skills under Hunk’s careful, if strict, tutelage.

 

Keith points a knife at Shiro and sternly tells him, “Nope. We’re saving up money remember?”

 

The reminder makes Shiro shoot a blinding grin at him which turns Keith’s insides to goop. They’ve begun saving up for a proper wedding/mating ceremony in secret. If all goes according to plan, they should have enough saved up within eight months.

 

And then...

 

Well.

 

There’s a box tucked away inside a shoebox deep inside their closet that Keith will dig out and present to Shiro.

 

“‘Misu!” Shiro chides, “Get outta there! You’re not a book.”

 

Keith laughs at the smug meow their cat lets out and the grumbles it pulls from Shiro. Mentally he tells himself he’s going to save more than they’d planned so that he can surprise Shiro in advance. As he shoves the chopped carrots to the side, Keith comes back to a thought that hasn’t left his mind since their first discussion.

 

 _I can’t wait to get married_.

 

 _Soon,_ he reassures himself happily. _Real soon_.


End file.
